


Gold and Lightning

by Regina (War_Queen)



Series: Accidental Light [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexuality, Character Study, Don't copy to another site, F/F, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pro-Mage Inquisitor, Qun, Qunari Culture and Customs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_Queen/pseuds/Regina
Summary: A grumpy Saarebas finds herself on a mountain, in the cold, surrounded by a cult that apparently worships her.Well... they’re probably going to regret it
Relationships: Female Adaar/Josephine Montilyet
Series: Accidental Light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019149
Comments: 21
Kudos: 31





	1. Beginnings I

**Author's Note:**

> the usual drill, my brain cells fighting to form coherent thoughts and then dishing out very detailed imagery.  
> Oh if you like templars then you won’t like this

_"Lightning particularly likes precious metals."_

_-Unknown_

They say that there is no love under the Qun. They say that under the Qun love does not exist. When asked, a Qunari would agree because it is easier to agree than explain that under the Qun love did exist but in a way that was foreign to the bas.

In the Qun love is not the selfish heated desire bas speak off. Love is everywhere in the Qun, it is in the way a Tamassran raises the imekari, it is in the way the imekari take care of one another, it is in the way the Antaam protects and in the craftsmen’s every work. It is in the scholars desire to learn to give back to their brothers and sisters under the Qun, so that no one may starve or be left without a role. But the Bas do not under this, they think of love and it is selfish and possessive and against everything the Qun teaches. The life of the one for the life of the many. 

“Kata!” A young voice called excitedly, tightly braided hair swaying with the way it’s owner jumped up and down in excitement. 

The boy, Kata, turned with a smug victorious grin, hair messy and clothes full of dust. “I told you I’d win!” He helped his opponent up from the floor, with the growth of their horns their wrestling grew raucous. Hugging one another to assure the absence of grudges Kata smiled at his opponent before walking to his best friend. 

Holding hands, the two imekari headed inside to fetch the buckets, it was their turn to get water. 

“You shouldn’t wrestle like that; your horns are still growing! What would you do if you break them?” 

Humming, Kata howled two buckets on his shoulders and grinned at her, “you worry a lot Hissera,” 

“For good cause!” She huffed, buckets balanced on her shoulders, “I can’t believe Tama didn’t stop you.” 

“It’s because she thinks it would help our growth. It’s not like you don’t do it either.” 

“Yes, well my horns are different, they’re larger and more durable.” 

Kata laughed, bumping his shoulder to hers teasingly and straightening up the pole on is shoulders into place, “did you hear what Tama said?” 

Carefully sliding down, the rocky edge and into the jungle she shook her head, “unlike you I don’t eavesdrop on Tamma’s private meetings. “despite the words there was a grin in her voice and a giddy smile on her face 

They stopped by the river and knelt down in it, to fill the buckets large and cylindrical as they were. “Tama said that She’s considering the Ben-Hassrath for me!” 

Hissera raised her head so quickly her horns almost pierced Kata in the face, eyes wide in shock she blinked quickly “Wow!” Abandoning the buckets underwater Hissera clutched Kata’s hands excitedly, “That's amazing Kata! You’re going to be so perfect for your role!!” 

Kata’s dark complexion darkened further with the blush on his cheeks, grinning he squeezed the hands in his in excitement, “Yes and do you know what else,” he teased, wanting her to ask for more information, wanting to tell her how she was considered to become a scholar, how they could both be trained in places so near one another. 

In her concentration everything else was absent from her mind guard down, Hissera startled badly when she felt something warp around her foot. Staggering back and falling into the water she closed her eyes at the scent of burnt meat filled the air. 

Her mind froze for a fraction of a second and thoughts flitted through her mind, did the bad Bas get on Par Vollen? How did the Antaam let them get this far!? 

Opening her eyes slowly when she couldn’t feel pain, she saw only shock on Kata’s face. His dark complexion became as pale as hers and his eyes trailed down to the water. A long fish was floating up, burnt to a crisp. Horror and shame filled her, and she dragged herself away from him “I’m a  Saarebas .” She whispered in disbelief and horror 

He looked at her for a few second before his expression shifted, grim with realization he closed in on her, hands clasped together, “you can’t tell anyone Hissera!” he sounded worried, winded their dreams shattered because of such a simple small thing. 

She looked at him with disbelief, how could she not! “I can’t! I’m Saarebas! I’m dangerous I need to tell Tama it is my role.” She bit her lips tightly to stop the tears from springing out, she hadn’t counted on their time together to end like this. She would never see him again, they wouldn't let her, Saarebas were respected and Admired in the Qun, they lived their everyday in danger and only an Arvaarad was allowed to talk to them, but Kata wouldn't be an Arvaarad Tama said he was going to become Ben-Hassrath 

"well, I'm dangerous too aren't I? Tama Said that my role is with th Ben-Hassrath so that means I'm dangerous too!" he looked so earnest trying to convince her to do something so against everything they had learned. 

" I shouldn't. It's wrong to keep something like this from Tama, what if I had hurt you?! what If a demon tried to get into me!" she wanted to, she knew it could never happen they will find out one way or another but she wished she had more time. 

"I'm not afraid of any demons." Kata puffed up his chest, he wasn't built like the soldiers of the Antaam, the diet Tama put them on assured that his growth would be suitable for the subtility and lethality of a Ben-Hassrath, "Please Hissera. At least not now, please." 

She was silent for a long time, looking into his eyes and at last she couldn't refuse. She couldn't believe how many rules of the Qun they were breaking, abandoning her role, putting the interest of the one above that of the many. Closing her eyes, feeling the wetness sliding down her cheek and praying for forgiveness, she nodded her assent. 

They both knew it wouldn't last, no one was meant to run away from their role. 

It was Months Later when Tama woke Kata up and sat him down to tell him how Hissera woke up screaming early in the night, seeing dreams. Something that was trained out of them all before they even learned how to talk. How frightened she was, how she spoke of demons and of surrendering to her role in the Qun. 

Tama was kind about it, she put a counseling hand on Kata's shoulder, but he smiled dejected at her and pulled away from her touch, murmuring that he was going to fetch some water from the river. 

the Tamassran stared at him and wondered how long he had known that Hissera was a  Saarebas, he showed no shock at the new, only resignation. Not wanting to lose two imekari in one day but having a role that she must follow the Tamassran pinned a messive for the Ben-Hassrath, speaking of a promising imekari so talented for one of this age. He needed to get back his sense of unity, his purpose and loyalty to the Qun.


	2. Beginnings II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, me? Invested? I would never

Kata did his best, he worked hard and harder until the Tamassran accepted his desire for a role under the Viddasala. There were many places that he visited outside of Par Vollen, his travels took him everywhere to procure and neutralize magical artifacts. However, while he remained loyal to The Qun, his royalty to his best friend was even stronger. It was against the teachings of Koslunto prioritize the life of the one over the many, so he worked hard and did everything the Qun asked him and hoped that when he finally finds her he would be forgiven for what he was going to do.

Seheron was a terrible place. Full with bas Saarebas and fog warriors and all kinds of horror. It was a dreaded assignment that lead him here, but he went where the Viddasala sent him because her word was law.

Kata arrived to the encampment and identified himself to the Kathaban there, it was late in the evening and it was already time for dinner.

His eyes, trained to always study his surroundings, flitted from one place to another uncaring for the scrutiny the Antaam gave him. The Arvaarad were far away eating their meal with their charged Saarebas . He studied them out of a habit that made his eyes linger one every Saarebas he met, his role drew away suspicions so he never tried to break it.

Eyes jumping from a Saarebas to another he noticed one and he felt his heartbeat stumbling and picking up. it took all his training to control it, to control the changes in his scent, a happy scent in a place that stunk of misery would draw attention.

Finished with his meal, kata approached the Arvaarad cautiously, asking for audience with their mages, they didn't ask why, he was here on orders of the Viddasala.

One by one, in a secluded room, an Arvarrad entered with a Saarebas and with his request they stayed in a far off corner. He was composed and did what he was trained to do when he was first assigned his role. If the Saarebas noticed his unfamiliarity with the procedures they didn't comments it went quickly and efficiently. There was nothing concerning in the state of the sambas, they were of sound body and they weren't starved, they answered his questions as well as they could with their lips stitched together. The routine and structure made it easy for him to not over react when Hissera's Arvaarad brought her in. She w was as beautiful as ever, her braids were longer than he remembered them and she was still taller than him, her horns larger than even her Arvaarad's .The one difference was that her eyes that once shone with hidden mischief were lowered, and her lips were sealed with the dark cords of the Saarebas .

When they were alone, he Arvaarad not a risk, kata whispered her name. His voice was lowered as if he was meditating as if she was the sun he dared not look at.

Hissera raised her head in surprise, Saarebas didn't have many to talk to and no one gave them neck names. The wired build, the curved horns, and that unmistakable voice. " _Kata_?!" her voice was hoarse from lack of use and her eyes were wide o she didn't cry because Saarebas were trained against those strong emotions, but it was a close thing.

"I missed you, " Kata whispered, hand hesitant reaching for her cheek. "I looked everywhere for you. I can't believe you're here, "

"Oh kata," her lips twitched with a genuine smile, the first time since that grim day she woke up and knew that demons would chase her unless she gave herself up in service to the Qun.

“I’ll finish what I was sent here for and we will run away from here. They wouldn’t suspect me, I came here alone and I can get is out of here and away from Seheron and Par Vollen.”

Her violet eyes stared at him indifferently for a second, lowering her pale lashes to cover her sadness “I can’t. Being away from my Arvaarad will corrupt me. We tried once, i gave up my role for you once kata, I can’t do it again you can’t fight demons like you fight the bas."

"The Viddasala sent me to Rivain and the bas Saarebas there aren't afraid of the demons. They talk to them and know how to keep them away, please let's get away from here."

"you know what the Qun does to Tal Vashoth Kata, you know what happens to the Tal Vashoth."

" **Asala-taar** " he murmured, his mind was screaming at him to finish up because any longer and the Arvaarad would be suspicious, "We aren't leaving the Qun, we will just leave to be together, together there is hope." He said hurriedly, his eyes imploring and his hands gentle on shackled arms.

"they will still hunt us down, are you really going to leave your role in the Qun for me? We might not even make it." She sighed, remembering how impulsive Kata always was, but also how royal to the Qun he was, both of them were.

"you once did for me, and now I would do it for you. It will not be easy I know, but we can do it together, and if we can't at least we tried."

"We won't be real Tal-Vashoth, right" she asked anxious, afraid for herself and for Kata, what if all this was her influence what if she was corrupting him!

"I promise you we won't." he said frantically, hugging her softly and quickly, "We can't talk for longer than this, but when I get the artifact I'm here for we will escape in the aftermath, that way they wouldn't doubt me and we would have until the Viddasala doubts my absence."

Hissera nodded, if there was a chance they could be together, if they could still be together and she wouldn't have to be afraid of the demons then she wanted it.

Pulling away from her he smiled faintly before indifference returned to his face and he called in the Arvaarad.

They both stared at the sandy shores of Seheron, how the waves lapped at the white sand. The thick trees a few steps away from the rocky shore hiding the camps, and above it the stars and bright full moon.

Kata turned to Hissera and he could see the calm on her face, she was always like that contemplative and philosophical. It was why Tama wanted to make her a scholar, "Hissera, let me get those threads off."

Her hand rose to her lips hovering, her bare forearms scarred where the shackles were. She tilted her head at him and nodded.

Inside with the medical kit open on a bedside table, they sat facing each other Kata with a scissors in hand and Hissera staring at him intently. He was so absorbed and careful as he cut off each thread and covered it with the medicinal salve to prevent infection from sitting it. They will need to learn how to make it from plants that grow in the bas lands.

Hissera could see how focused he was, when the last thread was laying in the box with the rest and the salve was spread on the space it left she sighed, "you don't feel afraid of me?"

Kata raised his head from the scissors he was cleaning, expression confused "why would I?"

"I'm a Saarebas ," she said simply as if it explained everything, it was supposed to.

"yes well, I'm dangerous too, what's your point." He said affecting indignance

She barked a laugh, eyebrows raised and eyes fond, "you never were one for sense." She sighed with a smile

His face split with a pleased grin, "I left it all for you," hand softly touching the edges of her smile, "I want you to always laugh like that." he decided

She pulled away, smiling, "what, loudly?"

"no" he answered, putting the kit back together and giving her his full attention, "unconcerned and happy."

She hummed thinking that maybe it wouldn't be impossible with him by her side.


	3. Origin I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it obvious that I resent DAI's lack of Protag background ?

When Kata heard that the bas Saarebas in Rivain weren’t afraid of demons he didn’t imagine that it was because they talked to them.

The head witch in the circle of Dairsmuid, a nice old elven woman who goes by the name Minate. Her kind eyes and kinder words welcomed them into the circle when she had no reason to. She helped them despite their suspicious circumstances, gave them a room to rest in and accepted their plea of help, she agreed to show Hissera that magic while dangerous, was nothing to fear if yielded correctly.

For a while they lived in the circle, their presence a secret from anyone who wasn’t a mage. Kata stayed with Hissera in some of her training sessions at the urging of Minate. She said that he had to learn too, if they wanted to lose their fear it needed to be a mutual effort. Sometimes, when Hissera's training didn't need him there, he would go outside do some odd jobs not for the money he adds to the stash he had from selling the ship they came on. After all Rivaini pirates fought over it and wound up paying a handsome amount for it. But for the intel, the whispers of the people and the way they moved. He made sure that their steps were too quite to reach the Ben-Hassrath widespread ears, they were undoubtedly a priority to the Qun, unprecedented as their defection was.

He was always on alert, in every place he went he kept his attention sharp on the merchants and the people, a hidden weapon, sharp eyes that lingered or recognizable tells. Rivain was one of the few places in Thedas where qunari didn’t draw attention for just being there, and it was a two-edged sword.

Hissera was powerful, very powerful. It was why they feared the Saarebas but still found a role for them, the Qun was not wasteful. With her powers came the burden of its mastery, she knew how to control herself but that control was not the same when there was no collar around her neck, no stitches in her skin, and the certainty of the Qun and of her Arvaarad with her. Months passed, and they got close, not only to those around them, but to one another. When their roles separated them they grew from the imekari the were once, but to their delight the changes only drew them closer to one another.

The mages in the circle loved to talk about the poetry of their love and how romantic it was, and they both would smile at them as if they were imekari asking why the sun didn't burn out the sea when it set into it. The bas had their ideals about love, and they found them odd, but sometimes a sentence here and a word there would resonate with them. Kata would look at Hissera as she laughed with the other mages freely and he would think that yes she was his whole world and there was no certainty in a Qun that pulled her away from him. Hissera was the same, late at night she would sit in front of the mirror sometimes hand hovering over dotted scars and she would think. Think of the corruption, of the Qun and she would turn to the sleeping Kata, who doesn’t startle when she a Saarebas moves beside him, and know that her choice was right, they could have their own Qun, one for the both of them alone. 

Time passed and they learned new ways that they fit together, Hissra's friends said that it was inevitable but she thought that they would have been content with or without it, Kata agreed so she didn’t bother to correct them. Hissera mastered her fear of corruption, Kata searched for a place for them to be together, they both believed that they were imposing on the hospitality offered to them and Kata wanted her to be free in a place that she called her own.

On one of his jobs Kata stumbled upon a perfect place for them. A nice small hut on the Rivaini Antivan border, far away enough from most settlements, and with a fertile land that would yield good harvest and would feed them well. Delighted and satisfied with his find he talked the landowner into selling it to him along with a good few cattle animals, the skills taught to every imekari helped him pick the best of the herd. Excited about the news Kata made his way to Dairsmuid.

There wasn't anyone in the circle who didn't recognize him, inside, he searched for Hissera and found her with First Enchanter Minate practicing. The magic of a Saarebas was of destruction, Minate insisted that Hissera learn the less aggressive forms of magic and so she spent time learning how to grow seeds into plants and how to turn mud to clay and other things that the rest of the mages found trivial but he and Hissera were amazed by.

"Hissera." he exclaimed when he saw her. Drawing her attention away from the block of ice in front of her. Holding hands warm from contained spell work he grinned "I found the perfect place for us; it is close enough to still get your lessons and far enough to not draw attention to us. " his grin was wide and proud

Excitement flashed on Hissera's face, her pleasure a radiant thing that made him fall for her all over again “That’s great Kata!" She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug and his hands rested around her waist. They had a place to stay in that was theirs that they could call their ow… her thoughts were interrupted by an odd feeling inside her, a startling kick that even Kata felt, if the shock on his face meant anything.

Hissera pulled away from him, hand on her stomach, brows knitted in confusion, and heart pounding in fear. She turned to the elven woman who was looking at them with her head tilted as if nothing was wrong. “I agreed to talking to the spirit, not to you putting it in me!” She exclaimed angry and frightened, the Qun _was_ right, there was no life for them without it, there was only corruption. The blood was rushing in her ears and she tried to remember when they could have done that.

The hedge witch’s eyes widened, “Calm down dear.” She placated closing in on Hissera slowly and carefully “give me your hand.” She murmured in the voice she used to guide Hissera all these months into mastering her magic, it was practically impossible for Hissera to resist. With her hand on her stomach the witch hummed and looked straight at Hissera, “There is a child growing inside of you. It is no spirit, dear.”

 _"Oh!"_ Hissera’s eyes widened and her hand fell “There’s a ..” she took a deep breath “ there's a what in me?” How could she believe it, but the more she thinks it the more sense it makes, they all know how children are made, and it’s not like she and Kata did anything to prevent it.

The hedge witch let out an amused laugh and shook her head, “You, are with child.”

“ ** _No!_** That can’t be!” Hissera exclaimed, there was only so much they could do to defy the Qun and still be Qunari, “there isn’t even a tamassran to take care of it!”

Minate stared at her incredulously “What?”

“In the Qun," she explained, " a tamassran takes care of the imekari and we don't have one. Only a tamassran can give the child the love and support it needs to grow up healthy and suited for their role!" anxious she pushed the corner of her tongue against a sharp fang and the coppery taste focused her on her surroundings

Minate frowned and rested a kind hand on her cheek, “you realize that not everything under the Qun is right.”

Kata interjects, before Hissera lashes out “that’s true,” Hissrea wouldn’t admit it but it is true, “the way they treat the Saarebas is not right. But not everyone is quipped to raise a child and the Qun is right in that.”

She’s silent for a while before she ventures “Maybe that's true.” Minate says mildly, placating “I think that both of you are suitable for that role, and you won’t find out until you try it.”

Alone, they sat together shoulder to shoulder contemplating the new information. Hissera broke the silence first “I think I want to try it.” She played with the cuff around her wrist, it unsettled many, Kata amongst them, when she first started wearing it but it was her choice and soon they all considered it an odd choice in accessory “It's a frightening experience but I would love to try it.

“We left the Qun to be together.” Kata held her hands, their calloses rubbing together in a soothing pattern. “If we have this child, they would be one of us. It wouldn't be just you and me anymore. We would have a new whole; we could make up our own Qun.” He joked, but the way he said it was the way he joked about things to ask her if she was sure about them instead of doubting her decision.

Hissera laughed heartily, eyes glinting and rested her hand on his cheek “our own Qun.” She repeated in a murmur. It sounded fantastic. “Yes. We will have our imekari and they will grow with us and we will teach them what tama taught us and they will grow to be a magnificent Qunari.”

Kata nodded and pulled her into his embrace, eyes closed and imagining a little imekari playing in the garden of their house, sounds of their and Hissera’s laughter loud in the air.

Asala manifested her magic at the tender age of four, it was not gentle or kind, and it was not a part of her parents' plan. Her parents, a Saarebas and Ben-Hassrath runaways had settled to raise their daughter on the outskirts of Rivain. Despite them being devote Qunari, the Qun didn't look kindly on deserters, or saarebas.

Asala, her parents' soul, was helping her mother in the garden while her father was cooking them lunch in the cottage when a bunch of people attacked out of nowhere. They were an assortment of elves and Qunari. Her mother gasped and pushed her away, into the open door of the barn.

Her mother took two down before she was neutralized, a man with an expressionless face and a glowing stick standing next to her. Her father was locked in a fight with another two leaving her mother vulnerable to the heavy looking collar the man approached her with. It was that moment which triggered the magic in her, it was not the kindness her parents praised her for, it was not diligence, and unbeknownst to her parents it was not fear either.

It was rage, controlled and precise like everything she was raised to be. Nothing wasted. A crackle of thunder, sound buzzing, accompanied by an arching chain of lightning so potent that it fried the three men surrounding her mother in their places, nothing left of them even their bones. The collar and the stick fell to the ground clanking loudly against the hard dirt leading to their house. Her mother joined her father in the fight, not afraid of her daughter's magic when Minate and Rivella were the ones who helped her gave birth to her Asala.

The fight after that was over quickly, Ben-Hassrath agents scattered around, felled by her father's sword and scorched marks on the ground from her mother's fire. They were called saarebas, Dangerous thing, for a reason. Her mother turned to her and embraced her tightly, engulfed by her husband's arms and they clung to each other.

Rivain was no longer safe for them, not now with the Ben-Hassrath knowledge of their house nor with the newly presenting magics of their daughter. Rivella, her dearest friend would be delighted to find out that Asala was a mage, she was enamored with her and the circle wouldn't refuse them if they sought shelter there. But no, it would be dangerous to all of them, maybe they could go once they found another place, one that is safer, where the Ben-Hassrath won't find them. For the meanwhile they can't stay, and they can't let the Ben Hassrath find out that they had an Imekari.

Resigned, she stared up at her husband and he nodded. There was no other solution, no better way. Hurriedly they gathered Asala's belongings and rode off to Dairsmuid.

" Rivella," Hissera, put her daughter carefully in her friend's arms.

"What's wrong?" Rivella was a keen woman, young and capable, she was training to be a seer and had many duties, but she always had time for Hissera and little Asala. Kata was on guard; she saw it in the way his hand rested on the hilt of his sword and the way he barely greeted her In his hurry to stand guard at the doors.

"They found us. We must go."

"you can't leave her here!" she exclaimed, she loved Asala dearly, but the girl was attached to her parents and they were to her, it was in her name for maker's sake!

"It will only be a while," Hissera explained hurridly, putting the little bag full of Asala's belongings down and hugging her daughter and her friend, "she killed three men today, Rivella, she's a Saarebas like me and fear is not a thing I want her to associate with her magic, not like it was to me." She pleaded and Rivella couldn't do anything but nod.

"you _will_ be back" she stressed.

Hissera nodded and called for her husband. Kata stared at his daughter with tears in his eyes, took her into his hands hugged her tightly, and kissed her forehead. " Asit tal-eb." He murmured and returned her to Rivella, "take care of her please." He said voice hoarse with emotion.

Rivella nodded and hugged little Asala close to her as she watched them walk away, believing that they would come back. Asala would grow with her parents happy and free.


	4. Origin II

"I thought you would object more." Asala rested her cheek on her fist watching her mama as she cooked and her papa as he knitted yet another scarf for mama to wear.

"Why would we?" Hissera asked with laughter in her voice, and her husband hummed his agreement with her

" I dunno," Asala murmured, raising to help her mother plate the food.

"We raised you to be a strong person capable of cutting their own path in this world." Kata noted, putting away the almost done scarf, and setting the table, "It's kind of against the point, if we stopped you from doing exactly that."

They sat down to eat, and Hissera pointed out "Rivella would miss you thought."

"I will miss her too." Asala thought of her aunt fondly, she would visit her from time to time. "I will miss both of you too, you know that right?" her face turned serious. If she leaves, she can't visit them at will, it would be dangerous for them all, even after all those years. There was always an overeager Viddathari who would learn of them and want to be more of a Qunari by hunting them down, even letters would be a risk.

"We will miss you too Asala." Hissera said with a sadness in her voice, but also pride "you will always be with us." 

Kata nodded and then grinned "and you could always send letters, you know, in our own private code."

Asala smiled, she’d hoped she would be allowed to take one of the birds her papa raised. Nodding she continued her food, and added after a thought "I will say goodbye to Rivella and everyone before I leave. Don't worry."

News of Dairsmuid Anullment reached Asala and she felt gutted. She was sick with worry for days. Every time she closed her eyes she would see her parents, and her aunt’s dead bodies and she would startle badly. The spirits pushed at the fade around her and she pushed back, she had no need for them now, wrath and despair weren’t thing she wanted to invite inside her no matter how alluring their calling was.

Shokrakar gave her a few days off to cool down, until she received word that her parents were safe and weren't near Rivain when it all happened.   
  
Her heart wrenched with grief for Rivella and everyone there, and with rage at the monsters who allowed it to happen.  
Her anger and grief was fuel for her magic. They went throught contracts faster than lightning and everyone gave her a wide berth. They knew not to talk to her, and Shokrakar took advantage and put her at the head of every attack, and she always came back victorious, her anger a rising fire that refused to go down, swallowing even the coldness of her grief. 

Soon enough The Valo-Kas were hired to keep peace at the conclave, when she found out she resolved that she had to be there. Shokrakar refused at first, saying that they were hired to keep peace not slaughter the templars, but after insisting and swearing that she wouldn't kill any templars, unprovoked, Shokrakar finally agreed.


	5. Haven

The room was dark when Asala opened her eyes. Her pupils dilated to accommodate the lake of light in the room an she could see the humans she could smell in the room. Her vision wasn’t as good as that of an elf but she could see the outline of the sunburst of the chantry carved in the floor, the door clanged and she raised her head to see two women entering, the light from outside shining on the armor of one of them. The woman’s hair was cut close to her ear and there was the mark of the seekers on her breastplate. 

The woman circled her in an effort to intimidate no doubt, “tell my why we shouldn’t kill you right now?” She growled leaning close to Asala’s ear, she pulled off and continued circling, voice angry “the conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead.” 

Her words startled Asala but she didn’t let it show, she knew that listening to the divine’s invitation was futile. By everyone she must mean the mages, and the everyone she was with in the conclave. Eyes steeled she pulled them away from the floor and settled them on the hooded woman silent in the back, taking in her body language. 

“Except you.” The seeker beside her growled, when she was met with silence she pulled Asala’s arm roughly “explain this!” 

Asala stared at her glowing hand with growing trepidation “I can’t,” 

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I don’t know what that is or where it came from.” She said calmly, the women both circled her like vultures waiting for a dying animal, she won’t give them the satisfaction of breaking her. 

“You’re lying!” The seeker growled and pulled at the intricate braiding at the neck of her Sarbass armor. 

Asala growled at the mistreatment her mother’s armor was getting but the other woman, the hooded one pushed the seeker off, “we need her Cassandra.” She said calmly, way more calm than the hotheaded seeker. 

Now that she thinks of it, she knows who those woman are. They are the left and right hands of the divine, she studied everyone who was attending the conclave and she was sure they weren’t meant to be here, they were delayed weren’t they. What was going on here? “What are you talking about?” 

The left and right hand exchanged looks and the hooded woman closed in on her “you remember what happened? How this all began?” She asked 

Asala closed her eyes trying to remember, her memories were blurred. There was the conclave, she went to protect the mages unbeknownst to Shokrakar incase it was a trap by the chantry. But then what? She remembers running, things chasing her. It wasn’t a fight; she wouldn’t run from a fight. There was woman? She reached out to pull her up and then what? She told them what she knew and they both were incredulous. 

“A woman?” The hooded woman said voice and features betrayed by a hint of recognition 

The seeker noticed and turned to her “go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” 

Leliana looked hesitant but quickly made her mind and turned away from the room and to the outside. Leaving her with the seeker.

It was annoying being at the mercy of a human and a seeker at that, but she didn’t have any other choice other than comply when the seeker unchained her from the floor and dragged her up. 

“What did happen?” Asala asked, watching as the seeker pulled away clearly not expecting how towering she was at her full hight. 

The seeker looked conflicted, “It will be easier to show you now.” 

She walked out and Asala trailed behind her, pupils constricting at the sudden change in light, but it wasn’t the sun. It was the bright green of the fade in the sky, a whirling circle that resonated with whatever it is that was in her hand. 

The seeker’s explanation confirmed her doubts, she had heard of places where the veil was so thin the spirits roamed out exploring but nothing was described quite like this. 

The seeker seemed pleased when Asala agreed to help close it, as if she had any other choice. They would soon kill her for a crime she didn’t commit, the least she could do was make sure the breach doesn’t expand far enough to harm people who are dear to her, who was left of them anyway.

The inquisition was not a thing Asala expected to see, if she were honest she hadn’t expected that she would live through stabilizing the breach but here she was. A member of the so called inquisition, trying to find the one responsible for this whole mess. The people of Haven idolized her a herald of their Andraste and it gritted her nerves. 

No matter how much she denied it it seemed that everyone who was at Haven believed it. Leliana and the Seeker included. 

The only good thing that came from this whole mess was meeting Solas, an apostate mage who was unlike any other mage she’d met, and Varric, The Varric Tethras, Author of tale of the champion.

Considering how grim the situation was when she met him, she had, to the displeasure of the seeker and amusement of Solas, all but pestered him about the story. If she was going to die might as well get it out of her system. 

Now with her very much alive she was practically vibrating with the desire to talk to him, but despite his attitude she could tell he was wary of her so until he felt more comfortable talking to her she was going to spend her time with Solas. 

Solas reminded her of the hedge witches at Rivain, and what a gutting thought that was for all she knows they’re all dead. Solas was a mage who didn’t fear spirits, he spoke of them as individuals with thoughts and free well and it was such a nostalgic feeling talking to him. It made her feel like the five years old kid who used to pester Minate and the seers for stories. It helped that the elf was eager to share his stories with her. 

The cold in haven didn’t bother Asala much. Most pointed out how her saarebas armor didn’t cover a lot of skin, and the areas it didn’t were only covered in Vittar, but whenever someone did she shrugged and brushed it offor growled at them; depending on who asked really.

That was not the case with Solas. He was an elf, short and slight, he was closer to the snow and the cold wind than she was, so whenever she wished to talk to him they would sit in his cottage by the smoldering wood in the fireplace. As an apostate no one would share space with him so they had all the privacy they needed when they talked. 

“So she called a wisdom spirit because..” Asala’s enthusiastic tale was cut short by the cottage door knocking and a runner entering the room

“Herald,” a young man said reverently, bowing low and fumbling his words “Seeker Cassandra asks for you in the war room.” He nodded hastily and left the cottage the door open when he scrambled out. 

She sighed and excused herself from Solas who nodded at her to go on, at least this time the seeker knew better to send a non human to fetch her. With a sigh she walked out and between the wooden walls and into the chantry courtyard eyeing the way everyone who saw her fell silent and reverent with annoyance. It was annoying that all those humans stared at her, at least the chantry mothers and that annoying brother knew better than to approach her.

Walking into the hushed dimness of the chantry Asala strutted to the war room staff in hand. It wasn’t hers, hers was lost in the conclave apparently, she had to contend with the one she picked until she got her hands on whatever wand her papa would send when her letter reaches them. The seeker was waiting for her in the corridor and she stepped into place next to her

“Does it trouble you?” The seeker asked, She seemed intent on being civil so Asala did her best to do the same.

Shrugging she said, “It closed the rift and saved people’s lives, it is not painful and I’m still alive so, no it doesn’t trouble me.”

“That is true.” The Seeker stopped walking and turned to her, there was a bit of distance between them that she had deliberately put so that she wouldn’t have to raise her head farther than was needed, “The mark is stable, and so is the breach. Solas believes a second attempt might succeed provided the mark had more power. The same as the one the mark came from.”

“So we need magic. Mages.” Asala tilted her head.

“Among other things,” She commented ushering her to the war room.

Hand on the brass doorknob Asala took a subtle breath and turned it. Strutting into the room, standing near the long table and leaning against the wide head of the staff “To what do I owe the honor,” she asked eyebrow raised. The seeker grunted, and Leliana took the role of introducing what is to be the hierarchy of power in the inquisition.

She studied each and every one of them silently just how her papa taught her and her eyes settled on the commander and the sword of mercy on his gauntlets.

Letting out a sarcastic laughs, she tightened her grip on the staff “yeah, no.” Her whole body was on defense and she could feel the lightning buzzing under her skin begging to be let out.

“Is there a problem?” The seeker asked, turning bodily to face her, hand on her sword hilt and eyes darting quickly

“A problem?” Her voice rose incredulous, “I may be willing to work with you seeker, but I’m not going to work with a templar.” The disgust in her voice and dismissal were sharp as a hundred knives

“Former templar actually,” the man corrected awkwardly, eyes widened not expecting the attention

In the blink of an eye lightning crackled along Asala’s arm and Cassandra raised her hand to cast a smite, Leliana interfered grabbing Cassandra’s arm and leveling Asala with a disapproving look.

“Enough.” She cut out in her lilting accent and turned to Asala. Cassandra glared at her tight lipped with disapproval, “He is well equipped for the role of the troops commander, and he is willing.”

Asala turned her attention to Liliana, she respected her, the woman was powerful and had held her ground against the pride demon, she was thoughtful and would’ve made for a good Qunari. When she refused to relent Asala growled and put her staff back down “whatever.”

In the silence that followed the ambassador cleared her throat, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mistress Adaar.” She smiled genuinely and extended her hand to shake.

Asala stared at it for a second, startled at the pleasantry, before her mind kicked in and she shook the delicate hand. Human bones were so brittle and easily breakable “a pleasure, lady Montilyet.”

The rest of the meeting went on with Asala too focused on Leliana and carefully blocking out the whispers of the spirits behind the veil. They were tempting with promises of revenge and blood but she ignored them, she didn’t need their help to get her revenge she was strong enough to do it on her own.

Leliana confirmed her suspicions, they needed help from the mage until then they had to grow their . Apparently news of her ‘‘holiness’’ spread far enough to get the chantry’s attention, Leliana advised speaking with a chantry mother in the Hinterlands and getting allies to back their budding order. The nightingale was efficient, and not just for a human. She knew what she was talking about and her efficiency was reassuring.

Despite all that, Asala couldn’t give her entire attention, a small part of it was trained on Lady Montilyet who put in as much insight as Leliana did, problem was she was still incredulous of the woman’s response. She’d assumed that after her outburst the noblewoman would view her just as any other noble human did, a savage to be put down whenever it lost its usefulness.

“While my scouts do their job I suggest you get to know the people who work here in haven, or at least talk to them.” Leliana concluded amicably.

Asala hummed and nodded. She’d already met that asshole who called her an ox and insulted the elf who was bringing her medicine, if the rest of them were like that then it’s going to be a whole ordeal. The war room emptied and Asala was left staring at the map on the table. Picking up the little figurine Leliana placed to indicate her scouts destination she considered. She was in this for the better or worse so she might as well do her best.

Before leaving the chantry, Asala stood outside Lady Montilyet’s office bitting her lips and debating the absurdity of her actions. The only way she’d ever speak to a human civilly is if they were a mage, or as in Leliana’s case they were competent and professional with her. But she’d never expected a noble to be civil with her, and there was something about the way Lady Montilyet curtsied and smiled when she introduced herself that spoke of her respect and how much she views Asala as her equal.

With a huff Asala made up her mind and knocked on the door before opening it and lowering her head to make space for her horns. Lady Montilyet was sitting behind a desk and had abandoned whatever she was doing in favor of giving Asala all her attention.

Asala could feel a blush rise on her cheeks and she wondered if it was because of the heat in the room, clearing her throat she willed a smile on her face and hoped it wasn’t as awkward as it had felt, “I uh, wanted to apologize to you Ambassador Montilyet for uhm.. what happened in the war room,” she rubbed her toes against the soles of her boots, a discreet nervous tick her papa taught her, “I hope I didn’t give a bad first impression.”

The ambassador seemed surprised, her eyebrows rose slightly before her smile deepened and she chuckled, “it’s alright. My impression was that you are certainly taller than I expected,” she tilted her head “I believe that there’s nothing wrong with making your boundaries known.“

Knowing that the lady wasn’t mocking her Asala smiled and nodded “I will leave you to your work. It is a pleasure meeting you.” The ambassador nodded and returned to the papers stacked on her desk, leaving Asala to finally realize that they weren’t the only ones in the room.

The woman, Minaeve, looked amused for some reason. Asala raised an eyebrow at her and the woman shrugged lightly before composing her expression, amused and curious Asala decided that it wouldn’t do much harm if she stopped to talk with her, it’s not like she wasn’t one of the people she was supposed to talk with.


	6. The Threat Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asala wonders why she agreed to stay then remembers she was actually helping people

Packed and ready to leave Asala made a last stop to talk with Leliana to make sure her scouts were where they were supposed to be. The Nightingale was kneeling in a corner inside the large tent in the chantry courtyard. When Asala approached her, she could hear her prayers whispered in reverence that spiraled into an interesting rant.

“You speak for Andraste, no? What does the maker’s prophet have to say about all this? What’s his game?” She turned, her tone accusing.

“Uhh..yeah,” she grimaced, “I don’t speak for your Andraste, or the Maker or whatever it is you guys worship.” She raised an eyebrow and leaned against the pole in the middle of the tent.

“You probably don’t even worship the Maker. Lucky. He asks a lot.” She didn’t seem criticizing, only resigned. “The Chantry teaches that the Maker abandoned us. He demands repentance for our sins. He demands it all. Our lives. Our deaths. Justinia gave Him everything she had, and He let her die!” She was clearly outraged, her voice sharpening as she rose from her place on the floor to stand next to Asala.

“I’m sorry. Her death must have been hard on you,” she lowered her voice sympathetic, Leliana clearly wasn’t used to opening up emotionally, she respected her and didn’t want to antagonize her, “However you can’t forget that she isn’t the only good person who died in this mess.” Rivella’s kind smile flashed in her mind and Asala clinched her fist behind her back.

Looking away at the chantry she scoffed, “If the Maker doesn’t intervene to save the best of His servants, what good is He? I used to believe I was chosen,” her eyes looked far away another place or perhaps another time “just as some say you are. I thought I was fulfilling His purpose for me, working with the Divine, helping people. But now she’s dead. It was all for nothing. Serving the Maker meant nothing.”

She stood next to Asala, unconcerned with the difference in their hight even though it usually bothered people, she seemed like a good woman with good intentions. Well, for an Andrastian that is, “Maybe you have another purpose.” Asala offered, everyone had a place in the world “I could help you find it.”

Leliana shook her head “No, this is my burden. I regret that I even let you see me like this.” She turned away and went to a makeshift table bracing her hands to rest her wight on and lowering her head for a second, “It was a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.” She raised her head and it was like she didn’t just bare her heart to someone she barely knew, “To work then. We will speak later.”

Asala nodded and excused herself.

The village they headed to in the Hinterlands was a literal shitshow, Varric said as much and she agreed.

There were a bunch of templars trashing the place and killing innocents, and mage fire was spread all over the place. The scouts Leliana sent took care of most of the mess but there were still waves of plundering templars attacking anyone in their way. The Seeker called for them, whatever she expected was unclear because they continued to attack.

“I don’t know what she expected,” Asala muttered, kicking a templar who looked like he was about to smite her in the stomach and planting the blade of her staff into the soft exposed skin of his neck.

Solas tried to talk with the mages who showed up after they got rid of the templars but they didn’t seem to listen, it was difficult for Asala to kill the mages when all she wanted was to help them. When everyone was dead and no one came out to attack them, Asala twirled her staff and holstered it to her back.

The Seeker was arguing with Solas when Asala turned to them, eyes fixed on the Seeker’s chest plate, “The mages are frightened,” she defended, “you’re the one wearing an armor of their jailers.” In moments like these she was thankful for her height. It gave her an advantage when she wanted to stare someone down, even if that someone was a stubborn Seeker with a penchant for disgusted grumbling.

Instead of returning to Haven like they were supposed to, they spent a few days in the Hinterlands when Asala insisted that they help the refugees. Hunting for food and getting some medicine for a poor elf’s wife. It didn’t hurt that she gained a bunch of allies, a cult, and a horse master, it would undoubtedly placate Leliana. Rifts closed a bunch of camps established all over they packed their bags and got onto their respective Fereldan Forders with somewhat of an unease on her and Varric’s part. For a second Asala wondered if the Ambassador would approve but she shook her head and focused on leading the horse she was on towards Haven, pack full and journal fuller.

Cassandra was cross with her, she made it clear when they gathered in the war room the day after their return “You refuse to hunt down the mages in Witchwood!” She exclaimed, “you’re putting the people’s lives in risk!”

Asala rested her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes, “We got rid of the templar encampment, that should be enough to protect the people until we speak to the mages properly. The mages won’t venture far from their encampment,” she found it fitting to rub their cruelty in their faces, especially when they **_loved_** to pretend it didn’t exist, “unlike the _templars_ who find it perfectly justified to kill a man because he looked like he was holding a staff. ” She noted, unbothered

“You can’t keep avoiding the issue and hope it will go away!”

Removing her hands from her waist and resting them on the table, she took a deep breath to retaliate, but one glance at a silent indifferent Leliana and Ambassador Montilyet who was scrutinizing her Journal with a tilted head and a flowing hand, made her defensiveness deflate. “I’m not avoiding it,” she straightened, “I’m simply being civil with the mages since we plan on gaining their alliance.”

The Seeker tightened her eyes, letting out her customary disgusted grunt. The commander looked like he wanted to say something but as usual he remained silent while she was in the room.

“I will send a few scouts with you to Val Royalx,” Leliana filled in the silent space with efficiency, “it is a good thing that you spoke with master Dennet, by the time you get back we will have fulfilled your agreement with him and have mounts ready for the inquisition.”

“Lord Berand would be a formidable ally, I’m surprised you were able to gain his trust.” Josephine pointed out with a charming smile on her face.

Heat suffused Asala’s face and she wondered why Haven had those bouts of heat, perhaps a rage demon was sulking around somewhere, “Yeah, he was with the cult, his lover was killed by a bunch of templars and he thought it was a good cause to fight for an end to the war.” She glossed over quickly, quietly wondering what made her so nervous.

“Oh yes! A lot of people sent their offers of alliances, now that you mention it I think it’s speaker Anais’s doing” she pointed out, her eyes and lips tilting with a subtle smile, the gold above her eyes standing out with the light of her candle.

Running her hand through the ends of her long mane Asala nodded with a smile. Ugh, why was the war room so warm! It must be the fire, she thought.

Val Royalx was, something. The golden arches reminded her of the buildings in Antiva at sundown but that was the extinct of her interest. The people whispered behind masks and gloved hands throwing her scandalized looks, and even used to this treatment she still didn’t like putting up with it.

On a platform in the middle of the market stood a few chantry mothers and Asala barely held in her disgust. Andrastians really gritted on her nerves, if only every Andrastian was reasonable and had the head to question their beliefs.

It was a pity display, the wild beasts finally biting the hand that held their leash. It was a real effort on her part that she didn’t let out the amused snort she felt. The chantry cleric looked like she expected Asala to talk to her but she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, “We came here to discuss helping the people but it seems that the only thing the chantry is interested in is throwing accusations and fighting for the position left by a dead woman.” With a huff she turned away from them. A merchant called for her and she glanced at her indifferently.

“Is it true that you want to close the hole in the sky?” The merchant asked

Asala sighed, nodding, “yes we do.”

The woman wanted to join for whatever reason she said, Asala wasn’t paying attention really. The Seeker seemed like she’d know what to do so Asala left it to her and turned to walk away.

“You did not try to get the cleric’s help.” Solas pointed out, walking beside her

“Yeah,” she shrugged “I’m not big on the chantry and their bullshit.” With her staff she suddenly cut Solas’s way, stopping him from walking into an arrow. “What now,” She sighed, crouching and pulling the paper from the arrow. Solas didn’t look concerned, only curious.

It was a goose chase, a very bothersome one considering she had to walk through crowds of humans who didn’t bother to hide what they thought or her. With a map in hand, an exasperated Seeker and an amused dwarf Asala decided that she’d had enough of Val Royalx.

“Excuse me Herald.” A man called for her, speaking of an invite and a possible alliance.

“I’m tired.” She grumbled. Riding hard to Val Royalx, putting up with the chantry and chasing clues across the city made her want to go to the closest stream and turn the water purple with electricity.

“We need all the allies we can get.” The Seeker pointed out. She clearly disapproved of Asala going off and leaving her with the merchant, but it wasn’t like Asala was a child begging for her approval.

“Yeah. Yeah. I get it. Alright.” She sulked, taking the invitation, and stuffing it between pages of her leather-bound journal. With the way things kept piling up she was going to need a new one.

On their way out a woman stopped them, "If I might have a moment?" she called, and Asala surprised by the presence of a mage in Val Royalx stopped to listen

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" The Seeker adjusted her body language surprise sharp in her voice.

Asala turned from her to the mage in front of her. She had never seen her before, only heard of her from whoever mage she came across during the last year. Now she was in front of her she couldn't help but stare. The woman was old, as old an elf could look, but not as old as Grand Enchanter Minate. She looked as tired and weary as expected of an elf leading a rebellion, Asala dismissed her stary thoughts in favor of getting together her bearings and stringing two words together.

Solas tilted his head and asked what she was too astonished to ask "Leader of the mage rebellion? Is it not dangerous for you to be here?" 

The woman hummed nodding, "I heard of this gathering and I wanted to see the fabled herald of Andraste with my own eyes." 

That was one way to pop someone's bubble, Asala thought sullenly. Even the leader of the rebellion thought she was the Herald. "I am not anyone's herald." she could hear the seeker disapproving grumble behind her but she stood her ground. If they wanted to lie to the people it was their choice, but she never said that she was okay with it. 

Fiona nodded as if confirming her words and add to them at large, "If it's help with the breach you seek, perhaps you should look among your fellow mages." She pointed out, eyes trained on the staff in her hand.

" That is our intention." Asala confirmed, "we were just unsure of how the mages would react to us." 

"we are willing to discus it, with the inquisition, at least." her wide eyes tightened slightly, wrinkling faintly at the edges, "Consider this an Invitation to Redcliff, I hope to see you again. **Au revoir** my lady herald." she added and turned away from them. 

In the silence that followed The Seeker shook her head " let's go. We have much to do." 

Asala sighed "Aren't those allies enough." she knew she should listen but that didn't mean she had to make it easy. 

" _Herald_ ," The Seeker taunted, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised and a scowl on her face.

"Ugh. Alright, alright!" She grumbled, and heard Varric chuckling behind her

To the dismay of some and the amusement of others, Asala returned to Haven with a snarky elf and an alliance with a mage who literally killed a noble in the middle of a ball without anyone batting an eye. Weirder things have happened, Asala thought, waving Varric goodbye and heading for the stairs.


	7. Art - Asala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asala Adaar.  
> Casually Judging humans and thinking that everything is a bad Idea but still jumping in for the ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know what to do with backgrounds so it's just purple


	8. The Captain Of The Chargers

With a clang of metal chains Asala stretched her body, arms over her head and standing on the tips of her toes. Covering a yawn she looked around the courtyard lazily. The ride was long and exhausting and sera, the new addition to the inquisition, spent most of it bickering with Solas and the Seeker much to her and Varric's amusement. All the fuss made Asala laugh so much so she was tired when they finally got to Haven. Even so there was no running away from responsibilities and she had to report to the war room, at least Josephine, uh.. Ambassador Montilyet would be please by the alliance with Madam De Fer.

Leliana’s lilted voice drifted out the tent drawing Asala’s attention, “So it’s true. Butler has turned on us. I hoped my hunch was wrong.”

One of her agents was standing with her talking in hushed tones, “You knew him well?”

“Not as well as I thought. Show me the reports.”

Asala knew this conversation wasn’t for her, if her ears weren’t well larger than normal, she wouldn’t have picked up on their discussion. Even so she felt obligated to intervene. Leaning on the central wooden pole and watching quietly.

“There were so many questions surrounding Farrier’s death. Did he think we wouldn’t notice? He’s killed Farrier. One of my best agents. And he knows where the others are. You know what must be done. Make it clean. Painless, if you can. We were friends once.”

“Wait. What are you doing?” Asala intervened, straightening, and raising an eyebrow at the spymaster

“He betrayed us. He murdered my agent.” Her ruthlessness was admirable, if misplaced

“And you’d kill him? Just like that?” Asala argued

“You find fault with my decision?” Leliana finally turned to her, face set with a grim expression

“If he has knowledge, then he’s a resource.” Asala reasoned, wondering how can Leliana not see the logic of it “Use him.”

“He’s a loose end that could escape and get word to our enemies.” She argued, brows drown, and eyes tightened, she must’ve known him very well for this to affect her like this. “Butler’s betrayal put our agents in danger. I condemn one man to save dozens. I may not like what I do, but it must be done. I cannot afford the luxury of ideals at a time like this.”

Asala sighed remembering her parents’ teachings, the Qun is firmly on the side of the one for all approach, “If the inquisition isn’t the place for ideals I don’t see what could be.”

Silent for a moment Leliana murmured, “You feel very strongly about this.” She looked thoughtful

“In the Qun, you put the interest of the whole before that of the one, but when you have a resource you don’t waste it.”

Leliana’s face flashed with warm recognition and she turned with a putout sigh, that Asala knew was for show, “Very well. I will think of another way to deal with this man.”

Turning to her agent, Leliana’s voice returned to its previous indifference “Apprehend Butler but see that he lives.”

With her matters handled for now Leliana left the tent to walk beside Asala to the war room. Once again Asala marveled at how close the spymaster stood next to her in a way that no human ever did. They were usually intimidated by a horned giant standing over them, it was as if she was used to being in close proximity with a Qunari.

“I’ve received word of what happened in Val Royeaux.” The Nightingale drew her attention

“That was quick, we’d just arrived.” Asala pointed out impressed

“You didn’t bother to hide your presence, and I have eyes and ears everywhere.” She pursued her lips thoughtfully, her hood hiding her eyes “I hope you’re aware of Madam De Fer’s political views, considering you made her alliance.”

Asala shrugged, pushing open the war room door and resting her hip against the wooden table waiting for the rest of them to arrive, “Yeah, she really didn’t make a secret of them.” With a pointed claw she scratched the wooden edge of her staff, surely the staff papa is supposed to send should arrive soon. “She knows and I know that our alliance is a means to an end.” She snorted something that sounded like ‘loyalist’ under her breath.

Ambassador Montilyet cheerful voice announced her presence, “I hope you had a pleasant journey mistress Adaar.”

“Ambassador Montilyet!” Asala straightened, a smile on her face, it was a pleasant thing to hear her name from someone else. It was all herald this herald that with almost everyone, even Varric stared calling her Tempest after she fried a couple of mercenaries at the fortress. And Solas didn’t count because he was Solas. “It was good, thank you for asking!”

“Leliana informed me of the alliance you negotiated with Madam De Fer,” she smiled pleasantly, “you seem intent on making my job easier for me.”

With a grin Asala pulled out her journal, bound leather barely holding itself together with how full it was. “Not with all the paperwork I keep bringing to your desk.” She pointed out teasingly.

“I assure you it is not an issue.” The Ambassador chuckled, taking the journal to look it over as she did every meeting.

Leliana cleared her throat when the Commander entered the room. Ready to start the meeting.

So soon after coming back from Val Royeaux Asala was expected to venture off to the Storm Coast. She sighed leaving the chantry with Leliana by her side. The nightingale was silent, even her steps were muffled against the stone floors of the chantry.

“Excuse me, I’ve a message for the inquisition, but I’m having a hard time getting anyone to talk to me.” A man drew their attention and they both turned to him.

A quick assessment established him as Tevinter, mercenary if she wasn’t wrong , and she was never wrong, not with her papa’s training. “Who are you soldier?” She asked, noticing how the Nightingale shifted subtly beside her.

“Cremisius Aclassi, with the Bull’s Chargers mercenary company, we mostly work out of Orlais and Nevarra.” His tone was confident and so was his posture, he must be high ranking in their company

A qunari led mercenary company, sounded like good aid and hey she was going to the Storm Coast anyways so what’s the harm. “I’ll be there.”

“Can you hear that!” The Seeker called out when they reached the camp in the Storm Coast. The heavy wind carried the sound of clashing metal uphill.

Asala who had heard it but wasn’t going to point it out sighed and patted her horse dismounting. The horses Master Dennet provided were doing their best but they weren’t made for carrying Qunari. “Let’s go then. The sooner we’re done the sooner we’re out of here.” The rain belted against her armor, dripping between leather and metal.

The mercenaries Lieutenant Aclassi talked about were down by the shore, standing out with their white clothing and odd masks.

Weapons clashed and lightning arched through, hitting its mark and moving from one to another to the other. Asala grunted when one of them charged at her and Varric. Knowing that the staff wouldn’t parry the hit and that her skin was naturally thicker, she placed herself in front of Varric only for a chain to wrap around the man’s ankle and drag him towards the mercenary captain away from them, with a swing the man lay in two pieces.

Hauling the axe up to his shoulders, he checked up with his lieutenant and then turned to her with a grin.

“Impressive,” Asala complemented, acutely aware of where each one of her companions were.

“So are you guys,” The Iron Bull’s grin widened, and he turned to his lieutenant, “Krem, How’d we do?”

“Five or six wounded chief, no Dead.” He reported, back straight and attentive

“That’s what I like to hear. Let the throatcutters finish up, then break out the casks.” He turned his attention back to Asala and his eyes settled on her hand and he started laughting, “Hot Damn, its true.” He was large, larger than her mama even with the horns. “The Chantry must _love_ you.” He cuntined laughting “A qunari ,ercenary is the herald of Andraste. Who’d’a thought?” he sounded amused

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” She rolled her eyes

With a tilt of his head he lead her to a nearby rock, sitting on it he grinned “So… you’ve seen us fight. We’re expensive, but we’re worth it. An I’m sure the inquisition can afford us.”

“How much is it going to cost me exactly. And let us not munch words yeah?” Asala studied his Vittar, black blocks spiraled along his shoulder and neck it was familiar in a blink and you’ll miss it kinda way.

“I assume you remember Crimisus Aclassi, My leutinant.” He introduced when said man came up to them

“Good to see you again,” he nodded to her and turned to Bull, “Throarcutters are done chief.”

"Already? Have them check again, I don't want any of those Tevinter bastards getting away, no offence," Iron Bull said.

"None taken, least a bastard knows who his mother was, puts him one up on you Qunari right?" Krem smirked as he walked away

Asala watched as he walked away, amused at the easy comradery. She knew that there were some decent humans, rare as they were to find.

“Your ambassador, what’s her name, Josephine?” the Iron Bull drew her attention, head tilted “We’d go through her and get the payment set up. The gold will take care of itself. Don’t worry about that, the important thing of that we’re worth it.”

Scanning the shore, she noticed how efficient they were, in cleaning up as much as in a fight. “The chargers seem like an excellent company.”

“They are, but you’re not just getting the boys. You’re getting me.” He stood up to his full height, towering above her like no one ever did before, “you need a front line bodyguard, I’m your man. Whatever it is, demons, dragons, the bigger the better.”

She turned to walk with him. The Seeker was good in a fight, flawless really, but still Asala didn’t, couldn’t trust a templar with her back. Even if she technically wasn’t really one. “Okay, I guess.“ huffing she nodded “yeah ok sounds good.”

“One other thing.” He stopped walking and turned to her “might be good might piss you off, You know the Ben-Hassrath right?”

Unsettled with what was that supposed to mean, “Yeah. I wasn’t raised in a barn. I know who the Ben-Hassrath are.” Bull raised an eyebrow at her and she answered with an eyeroll, “they’re like the secret police, spies, enforcers what have you.”

“Huh, I didn’t see that coming,” he raised his eyebrow at her “ I’d wondered about your name, your parents were from the Antaam before they defected or something?”

Asala laughed heartily resting her weight on her staff, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The Iron Bull stared at her for a few seconds resisting a grin, “fair enough. Anyway you’re right, that’s us. Well me.”

“Hold on a minute.” She leaned away from him incredulous, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Eh,” he shrugged “well, the higher ups asked me to join the inquisition, get close to you get them Intel and what not, and well you’re the **_inquisition_** it’s better you find out from me now than from anyone else later yeah?”

At this point Asala was sure she nothing could shock her anymore, “what’s wrong with you? You’re just blurting that out like that!?” He was huge! Nothing like her father, how can he be Ben-Hassrath!

“Hey, it’s not gonna be one sided. I’ll send intel to the higher ups and I’ll give you whatever it is in the reports I get from other agents all over Orlais and if your spymaster is any good She would know what to do with them.”

“I see you’ve done your homework.” Asala murmured, digging a claw into the wood of her staff, she needed a new staff and soon this was becoming a habit that she didn’t want to develop. “Okay, alright. You’re in but you better tell me up front if you get an order to kill me or I’d be very cross at getting stabbed in the back.”

The Iron bull laughed shaking his head and calling for his lieutenant, “Krem tell the men to finish drinking on the road, we just got hired.”

“What about the casks chief? We just opened them up. With axes.”

“Find someway to seal them, you’re Teventir right? Try blood magic.” The Iron Bull teased, raising his axe to his shoulder.

With an amused expression she interrupted, “no need, we’re not in a hurry.” she pointed to the Seeker behind her, “when you’re done the Seeker can escort you to Haven.”

“What? Why?” The Seeker asked disgruntled

“Well, you don’t want them to be attacked on sight yeah? And Leliana said that we should move in groups of four for safety.” Asala explained stretching and twirling her staff, “we still need to go looking for the missing soldiers.”


	9. The Cleaning House

With the chargers in Cassandra’s care, Asala and her companions returned to the camp. The scouts stared when behind her, even a larger Qunari showed up and she didn’t wasn’t bothered with their stares this time. 

“Some of our soldiers went missing here, so we’re going to look for them.” She pulled a few health potions from the supply chest and handed them to those who don’t have any, “or find out what happened to them, if they’re” she gestured vaguely, “you know, dead in a ditch or whatever.” 

“Whatever you say boss.” Bull shrugged, watching closely how the companions fit together, the way Asala took point even though she was a mage, walking close behind her was Varric next to Solas, who was also a mage. 

She turned to him and squinted before gesturing him over, “I know Qunari aren’t good with magic so just know that I’m not gonna bust up in demons or whatever.” 

Bull looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “That’s a relief.” 

“Mmm, I imagine.” She was smiling like she just told a joke that no one but her understood, “with this rain I’m not sure we can track the soldiers, but it’s worth a try. Leliana said they were supposed to be up here somewhere.”

They walked for a while, interrupted with sudden mabari or bear attack but otherwise completely undisturbed. 

“So, you're Ben-Hassrath, eh? The spies of the Qunari.” Varric spoke after they killed yet another bear

“Oh, you've heard of us?” Bull grinned

“I spent some time in Kirkwall.” Varric shrugged 

Asala turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “Really Varric? Really? For the whole month we’ve known one another you always shut me down when I ask about Kirkwall, but when another Qunari shows up bam you’re suddenly mister friendly.” She didn’t sound angry, surprisingly, she sounded petulant 

“Hey! I’m always friendly,” Varric rebutted with no heat, “I actually thought you were asking as a curtsy.” 

Solas chuckled and she turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “hey don’t make fun of me.” 

“I am not.” The elf smiled, “I simply find it amusing that you would pretend to be interested in something for the sake of curtsy.” 

“Hey, I can pretend I’m interested in things.” She grumbled at Solas’s condescending “undoubtedly.” And kept walking until she spotted a bunch of men patrolling a rundown shack. “Ten royals says those are the Bandits we’re looking for.” She quickened her steps, bending her knees in a half crouch

“Didn’t know you were the betting type tempest, but thanks I know better than to bet on the wrong horse.” 

With a flick of her staff, she sent a fire ball towards a patrolling Mabari and charged in, “Better catch up.” She called out before sending a chain of lightning at a group of them standing next to one another. 

After the bandits were dispatched Asala was breathing heavily with a pleased smile on her face, 

“Never seen a Saarebas fight like you.” Bull commented pulling his axe from the entrails of man laying in two separate pieces. “Impressive, Put the Saar in Saarebas”

“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself.”

“How come I never seen you this wild tempest?” Varric asked stepping away from the crisp remains of a man. 

“Well. It helps that I’m not expecting a smite to the back” she shrugged. Walking into the shack.

“Looks like we found the missing soldiers.” Solas pointed out the bodies lettering the ground. 

“Might want to inform their families.” Varric said quietly 

“Yeah and Leliana.” Asala watched the bodies lettering the floor dispassionately 

“Boss,” Bull drew her attention, holding a paper in hand. It was not crumpled or torn so it’s unlikely that it fell from their pockets. 

Going over its content she sighed, “we need to find a deepstalker to skin. Anyone knows where the hell we would find that.”

“There’s plenty of them in the deep roads as you remember.” Varric said, cleaning Bianca with a piece of cloth 

“There’s a cave by the shore, I’m pretty sure there’s plenty there.” Bull pointed out, when the three turned to him with raised eyebrows he shrugged, “the chargers need a place to sleep and caves are dry.”

“To the caves it is.” She declared, holstering her staff and walking back the way they came from. 

Two failed skinning attempt later, and throughout the third, Varric wondered out loud, “so you don’t trust the Seeker but you trust the Ben-Hassrath?” 

Asala was concentrating on skinning this one right because, shit, she was not going to chase another deepstalker across the cave network, she didn’t answer him and they all assumed she wouldn’t, until she finally got the skin off without damaging it and punched the air, “Ah damn, finally!” She gathered the corpses and threw them in a muted bag to be sent to Minave for research, then straightened, “I would trust a nug with my back before I trusted a templar.”

“Someone has some very strong opinions.” Varric pointed our, “ I’m feeling homesick with how familiar that sounded.”

They made their way out and to the camp, one requisition and a meal break later, Asala checked up on the crest. 

It was well… as the sketch designed. A crest small enough to engulf in her hand with the sword of mercy running through it. Far off enough from camp she was still holding it in her hand with a disgusted expression, “yeah… I’m not wearing that.” 

“You want to challenge their leader, you’ve got to play by their rules.” Varric reminded her

“But it’s the ‘sword of mercy’” she said disgusted. “if you like it so much here, **you** hold it.” 

She brandished the crest to Varric who raised both hands off and away from it, “Nope, not touching that.” 

“Bull?” She turned to him with her practiced puppy look that mama always fell for and he sighed, pocketing the crest. “It’s not for long. We just need to find their camp and I’m gonna take it back.” A grin was plastered on her face, it was reassuring having a Qunari nearby. 

Just as she said, it wasn’t long, they saw the camp from across the hill and she took the crest and showed it to the two guarding the gate. They took one look at it and ignored her completely, gossiping about how she would likely die like all those before her. 

Their leader was all bark and no bite, her companions didn’t interfere with their fight but when he released his hounds they blocked their path and dispatched them easily. 

The transition of power was surprisingly smooth, no grudges or anything. Pleased with how things went, she turned to her companions with a grin, “Who’s up for traipsing through the Storm Coast?” 

Varric rolled his eyes, “Not me, but that won’t stop you.” 

“Hey brighten up. We’ll just clean up the camp sites Leliana’s scouts marked and get back to Haven.”

“Ugh,” Asala swatted off the goo on her shoulder from the terror demon who tried to cut her open, “This is it. we can take care of the rest later, I’m sure Leliana has more things to worry about than whether or not we’ve established a presence in the Storm Coast.” 

“Finally! Anymore time in constant rain and I’m reaching my limit tempest.” Varric said doing his best to dry Bianca with a wet cloth. “Bianca too.”

“Alright.” She whistled for the crow watching them like Leliana taught her, and watched as it dashed towards her. “Let’s wait till the scouts secure this camp and we’re out of here.” She tied up a tiny paper to the bird’s leg, and sat waiting on a nearby rock. 

They waited for the scouts, Asala resting her chin on her palm and listening to Solas tell her a story of dwarven warriors, Varric was pestering Bull about some Tallis and spies she wasn’t really listening, too focused on Solas’s description. It was very peaceful, if one didn’t count the drenching rain and the violent pull of spirits against the veil. 

“Hey, Boss.” Bull called, pointing at a raven coming her way. 

Asala sat up, conscious not to draw unwanted attention. The note around its foot was wrapped with thick leather and weighty with the number of pages. One glance at the crypted word and she stuffed the papers back into leather and then to her pack. “Looks like Leliana wants us back at Haven.” 

Riding back to haven was a trip. In more ways than one. At some point Asala mentioned that she was Qunari, Bull said something about true Qunari and Solas apparently found fault with it. It turned into a whole thing that Varric was too happy to ignite with stories of the Qunari back in Kirkwall, and Asala was too reluctant to stop them since Varric was finally talking about Kirkwall. It went like that for a while, then they fell silent. Then Bull and Varric started talking about the inaccuracies of Varric’s tales which in turn revealed that even Solas reads Varric’s works. 

By the time they were approaching the Frostbacks Asala was smiling wide and they were all acting like friends, even Solas was amenable with Bull.

They were riding slow to make the horses rest, Asala’s mount leading them and the rest following leisurely behind. Varric and Solas were talking about one thing or another when Bull straightened on the horse he was given. 

“Now that im looking, you’ve got a nice rack there Boss.” 

“Thanks!” Asala turned her head to him with a proud grin, she slowed her horse a bit so they could ride side by side “Got it from my mother.” It was one of the things most Qunari first noticed about her, larger than the majority of them.

“Are you all qunari shameless like that?” Varric laughed, eyebrows raised

Bull looked puzzled at him “Huh?” Then it clicked and he Shook his head at Varric with a laugh, “Get your mind out of the gutter Varric. I was talking about her horns.” 

Asala stifled a laugh that turned to a snort, “though that too is true” he added when he noticed that she didn’t look like she minded. 

She grinned at Varric with a raised eyebrow, “Thank you Bull.“ her voice pleased and giddy laughter flowing freely with the wind

Her attention back on the road they went back to bickering amongst themselves. She wanted to read the message her parents sent but it wasn’t a smart move to do that in sights of a Ben Hassrath agent, no matter how laid back he seemed to be. 

The trip was long and as close as she knew they were they were still far off. Detecting a nearby river, Asala drew their attention. “Hey lets stop here. I really _really_ need to soak after the Storm Coast.” She thought of how they usually held war room meetings after she returned and felt horrified at seeing Ambassador Montilyet with her skin sticky and dusty from the rain and road.

Dismounting by the lake she started to take off her armor piece by piece, the cuffs around her hands clinked together loudly in the silence as she took them off and submerged deep under the water. 

The feeling of fresh cold water on her skin was refreshing and she cold feel her hair floating up to the surface, freed from the bun she had held it in when they left the Storm Coast and it got tangled. 

The water was disturbed on the other end of the river and she resurfaced, wiping her face and pushing the strands stuck to her face away. Bull was in the water already and Solas was putting down his pack next to a rock, she turned to Varric and he was looking at her as if she was shining with a spirit in her.

“What is it?” She asked, turning to look behind her when he continued to stare at her shocked. 

“I knew it! You guys have no shame!” He pointed at her armor laying by the rock with Solas’s pack. 

“What are you talking about?” She asked, just to fuck around with him. 

“No. No, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He averted his eyes, turning to Solas looking for comradey only to throw his hands up when said elf joined them in the water. “Really. Really Solas? You too?” 

Solas didn’t seem bothered, leaning back on a rock behind him “It is only weird if you make it.” 

Varric grumbled at them, “no thank you. I’ll keep my clothes on if it’s all the same to you.” 

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged and pulled a swath of cloth form her pack and ripped it up into pieces. “Hey want some?” She waved it at Bull who nodded. Handing one to Solas near her and throwing one to Bull she focused on rubbing her skin clean. The last thing she wanted was to appear uncivilized to Ambassador Montilyet. 

When that thought popped into her mind she stopped scrubbing, when had she _ever_ been concerned with what anyone thought of her, let alone a human noble. 

Prefunctually, she made sure that her skin was clear of dirt and then rubbed the dirt out of her hair, making sure to braid it tightly to dry. 

Done with herself she moved to her armor, diligently rubbing in between crevices, unbraiding the robes and soaking them before rebraiding them. The armor was a treasured piece and her mama’s pride. When she gave it to her, she knew it was the ultimate expression of pride. 

A runner arrived with word of the Herald’s return. Waiting for them was Cremisius Aclassi, Bull’s Lieutenant, sliding next to Bull and briefing him on their journey to Haven. Asala waved them goodbye and headed to where Leliana was standing in front of her tent. 

“We got a letter from your former mercenary company.” She said by way of greeting, brandishing a large envelop 

“What is it?” At the silence she laughed, “it’s okay, I know you read it. What did it say?” 

“In short some nobles appear to have taken some of your former colleagues captive.”

“It’s always fucking humans.” She seethed, eyes tightened and teeth clinched. Taking a deep breath she nodded, “can you take care of it?” 

“Very well.” Leliana said, without elaborating and Asala didn’t pry further, putting the envelope in her pocket along with her parents’ letter.

They both headed to the war room, and Asala execused herself, declaring that she would fetch ambassador Montilyet herself. 

Asala didn’t hesitate at the door but she knocked lightly before opening it. Ambassador Montilyet was uncharacteristically away from her desk.

In fact, she was very civilly discussing something with a masked man. Her accent rolling the letters gave Asala a nostalgic yet odd feeling.

“But allow me to introduce you to the brave soul who risked her life to slow the magic of the Breach.” The Ambassdor turned to her, “Mistress Adaar, this is the Marquis DuRellion, one of the Divine Justinia’s greatest supporters.”

“And the rightful owner of Haven. House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for a pilgrimage. This ‘Inquisition’ is not a beneficiary of this arrangement.” He cut in, quite aggressively too if she says so herself.

“Wasn’t it the left and right hands of the divine who established it?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve seen no written records from Sister Leliana or Seeker Pentaghast that Justinia approved the Inquisition.”

Ambassador Montilyet was even more radiant as she gave him a civil dressing down that he would undoubtedly never forget. Asala didn’t really care much for more than that he left with his dignity shattered even after the ambassador smoothed things with her honied words.

“You handled him well.” Asala complemented, “It is good to know that the Inquisition still has a base of command.”

“His Grace is one of the first of many dignitaries we must contend with.” She explained

“You expect more people in Haven?” Just what they needed, more conceited nobles

“Undoubtedly. And each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart. An ambassador should ensure the tale is as complimentary as possible.” She spoke with experience and knowledge, “Ah, before I forget,” The ambassador exclaimed, covering her mouth with her delicate hand and turning to her desk her, serious expression all but gone.

She was elegant in everything that she did, and for once seeing a noble woman act so prim and proper around her didn’t make Asala want to roll her eyes. Her elegance wasn’t the kind that was used to be rubbed in others faces. It was… lovely.

She searched amongst the papers piled in stacks, her bangs falling into her face covering her eyes and the elegant tilt of her nose... Asala startled, noticing how her eyes were straying. This doesn’t make any sense, she thought.

“Yes. Here it is.” Ambassador Montilyet straightened, pushing her stray bangs behind her ears and presenting Asala with a thick leather-bound book.

Confused, Asala took it, glancing at the pleased expression on the ambassador’s face and back to the supple leather in her hand. Opening it revealed hundreds of empty papers, crisp and well pressed. “Oh.” She was lost for words, admiring the craftsmanship and the insulating leather, “this is lovely!”

“I ordered it specifically for you,” the Antivan smiled, “I didn’t anticipate its arrival by the time you were here, you; however, spent quite the long while in away from Haven.”

Surprised and not knowing what to do Asala hugged her, careful with how delicate she was. It wasn’t that hard considering how delicate Aunt Rivella was. Only remembering Aunt Rivella made Asala pull away from the Ambassador and straighten up. “I apologize. I don’t know why I did that.” She said formally, trying very hard to push her surfacing emotions back, “Thank you for the gift. It is very thoughtful.” She could feel shame and grief bubble inside her like rancid oil.

Ambassador Montilyet seemed to notice the sudden change in tone, and bar a tightening of her brows there and gone in less than a moment, she didn’t show any sign of having noticed it. “Of course. I believe we’ve left the others waiting long enough. We have a meeting to attend.”

Blinking rapidly Asala nodded. “You’re right. Of course.”

“I believe now would be a good time to pay the rebellion a visit,” Leliana pointed out after being briefed over the events of the Storm Coast.

“I think we should consider allying with the templars.” The commander interjected, voicing his disagreement for the first time.

A snap of lightning sharply arched through the room, nullified quickly by its shocked target. As soon as the spark left Asala’s hands in a fit of fury, she felt her connection to the fade disappear.

Growling she pulled her dagger from it’s holster at her side and turned to the Seeker. Making sure the door was behind her and that all of them were in front of her she growled, “Do that again _Seeker_.” Her teeth were clinched, and she could feel her blood rushing in her ears.

The Seeker was in a defensive stance, sword drawn, and hand raised as if to throw another smite.

“Do that one more time and you won’t have an arm to hold your sword with.” the fire igniting the pool of shame in the pit of her stomach blocking her vision with red spots. Attentive, she cataloged every tiny thing in her surroundings. Leliana was standing in front of the ambassador, covering her completely form view.

“Adaar, Cassandra, put down your weapons. ** _Now_** _.”_ Leliana stared them down, when Adaar showed no signs of backing down the Seeker took the _moral high ground_ and holstered her sword, she didn’t budge from her defensive stance though. Asala kept her dagger up until she could feel the fade pushing against her skin, thick and sluggish but there.

“I would appreciate it if we kept the fighting for our enemies. Yes?” Leliana said with a threatening lilt to her voice, eyes tightened in disapproval

“You ask me to help you and I agree,” Asala started heatedly, “you spread rumors about me being the herald of **your** ridiculous religion despite my protest and still I do nothing, but **You. Will. Not.** So much as allude to allying with the templars. The only thing a templar and I would have between us is their severed head.” Her vision kept swimming with red spots, and she could feel the heat of the rage demon pushing against the veil, its voice an outraged growl in her ears.

Without waiting for an answer, she left the room, carful with her back turned to them, magic very close to her skin.

Out of the chantry she made a bee line to the hut they assigned her. Slamming the door shut behind her she made for the far-off corner. It was easy to think that she was making a difference, that she was helping, when in reality she was betraying her people. What was she doing here, on a mountain surrounded by fanatics everywhere she went? The cultist here, in the Hinterlands and in the Storm Coast.

Sniffing, she rubbed away the moister gathering at her eyes and pulled her parents’ letter from her pocket. The script was neat in places and scrawled in some. It brought a weak smile to her face, papa never did learn to make his script neat, ‘better to confuse whoever reads it.” He’d say, and mama would laugh and tell her to focus on making her writing clear, ‘just because papa is foolish doesn’t mean you’ve got to be too.’

The letter started simple asking about her well-being, telling her to be careful, telling her that they’re safe and that she doesn’t need to worry, and then telling her how they sent a contact with the supplies she asked for. How proud they were of her for trying to mend the broken sky, of helping when she could. “You were always strong and levelheaded,” mama’s neat script said, “we’ve always known that your role is to be a leader.” Papa’s scrawled text followed, “we didn’t have a Tamasran to help us decide your role, but that was alright because you were always good at carving a place for yourself in this world.” It was not what she expected, but then again _what_ did she expect.

The letter carried on like that, written just so to make her feel as if they were there with her and not an ocean away. When it ended with mama’s “Stay strong,” and papa’s, “ Be kind.” Tears were sliding down her face, wiping them away she stood up.

It was foolish and stupid, and she shouldn’t do it, she should burn the pages, but still she couldn’t. Moving the bed away and pulling out a wooden plank from the ground, she hid the pages, tightly wrapped in protective leather there and placed the plank back.

Putting things to back where they were supposed to be, she lay on her bed, eyes closed and contemplating. Her fingers splayed over the supple leather of her new journal.

She needs to apologize, to Leliana and to Ambassador Montilyet. She didn’t deserve that, she was kind and sweet and smart and… Asala trailed off, sliding into the cool embrace of the fade.


	10. In Hushed Whispers

“I apologize for what happened in the war room,” Asala said solemnly, eyes trained on the pin holding the ends of Leliana’s hood together, “It was... unprofessional. I shouldn’t have let my emotions take over me.” She dampened her lips and shifted her weight. It was easier to project her nervousness than to hide it and have the Nightingale’s dissecting gaze turned to her. 

The air was crisp and cool where they stood by the trebuchets. Nugs skittered around squeaking in the snow under the ridge. The Nightingale was staring at them like they held the secret to unraveling all this mess.

“Ten years ago,” Leliana started, eyes trailing off, watching the far off wooden buildings, “I came here with people who are very dear to me. Haven was still a village where a cult of Andraste lived.”

Asala raised her eyebrows, silently thinking how it doesn’t seem to have changed.

“One of my friends, Sten, though he goes by Arishok now.” She smiled warmly, “he turned on my love and drew his sword at her, challenging her lead.”

Asala frowned, It was one thing to know the current Arishok and completely another to call him a friend. “You speak fondly of him.” She wondered

“He was displeased with the way our quest was progressing,” she explained with a shrug “Naturally, my love accepted the fight.” Leliana laughed softly, it was bright and unusual. It made her look younger, at ease, “she won and then when we were done she went looking for his lost sword. Asala.” There was a life to her that Asala had never seen before.

“She helped him when he attacked her? She saved his life.” She didn’t know if she should be shocked at that or at Leliana’s behavior, her smile and fondness, it was forgiven on her usually professional face.

“I suppose my love understood his frustration.” Leliana hummed, “Things are never simple, I understand your anger and I can’t fault you it. But it is not a thing that I would tolerate its repetition.” Her eyes sharpened from their nostalgic sheen.

“Yes. Of course.” Asala nodded biting her lips, that explains how Leliana didn’t flinch away from her like most humans did. If you were on such friendly terms with the Arishok, that ought to do it.

The sun was high in the sky and Asala felt apprehensive. The longer she put off apologizing to Ambassador Montilyet, the harder it became. Biting the inside of her lips she focused on sketching the map of the Hinterland from her old journal into her new one. The charcoal glided on the paper, the scratching sound a comfort joined with the sound of the wind against snow.

Sitting by the frozen lake meant that no one would approach her unless it was urgent which left her with her thoughts. A nug skittered by, frightened at her presence and made its way through the snow.

When they were camping in the Storm Coast, The Iron Bull spoke of seeing a Tamassran to settle his mind, heal his soul. Papa spoke of it often. The Tamassran’s whose role was to help organize others’ minds. To get rid of the anger and fear and leave only the certainty of the Qun.

The Bull said it didn’t work on him because he knew all the tricks, but Asala wondered if it would work on her since she didn’t. Still she wondered if she truly wanted to feel nothing when she thought of the Dairsmuid slaughter.

Staring at the green hole in the sky, she finally gathered her charcoal and slotted the papers back to the worn journal. Carefully gathering the new one and heading back to her room. Putting it off was useless, she would either forgive her, or she wouldn’t.

Heading to the chantry, she noticed researcher Minaeve prodding the deepstalker hide with fire, while the surrounding people cowered away from her. Feeling fortunate that she would have the privacy to apologize, she widened her steps, striding to the room and knocking politely.

Ambassador Montilyet’s familiar voice called from within and Asala opened the door, eyes trained on the handle for as long as she could close the door.

“How can I help you, Mistress Adaar?” The ambassador’s attention trained on her. She didn’t look any different, like nothing happened at all.

“I wanted to apologize for my actions yesterday,” she tilted her head, eyes trained on the wide feathered quill resting in the Ambassador’s hand. “It was unprofessional of me.”

The ambassador frowned, blotting her quill, and pushing away from her desk to stand up to in front of her. “When Leliana recruited me, I had been considering leaving my post in Antiva. The prospect of settling the unrest in Thedas was too promising to ignore.” She pursed her lips, the beauty mark near her mouth a bit distracting, “there was a lot of bloodshed even before the Divine’s death. I could imagine that not many were untouched by it.”

Asala bit her lips and nodded, understanding was not a thing that she expected, nor was forgiveness.

“I only hope that you would give us, The Inquisition, the benefit of the doubt. We are making a change, and we are fighting the same fight. There is bound to be conflict but I’m sure of our ability to solve it without resulting to violence.” She was earnest, no judgment in the way she spoke, only a strong convection that kindness would solve things.

Asala laughed breathlessly, astonished at the existence of someone like her, “I was worried you wouldn’t forgive me.” She grinned when the Ambassador smiled warmly

“We are all new to working together like this, you, more than any of us, are under a lot of pressure.” Her delicate hand rested lightly on Asala’s arm.

The weight of her hand was comforting, absorbing the heat Asala’s body gave off in folds. Her delicate fingers felt like the touch of silk on her skin. When she removed her hand back to her lab, Asala bit her tongue, pushing it against her fangs until she tasted blood.

“Anything else, Mistress Adaar?” She asked warmly and Asala shook her head.

When the Ambassador turned her back to her, Asala couldn’t help but call back her attention, “Asala.” She corrected. At the ambassador’s returned attention, she cleared her throat awkwardly, “call me Asala.” She was aware of the blood rushing to her cheeks.

The ambassador smiled warmly, “Of course, you may call me by my name then.”

Asala nodded silently, and excused herself out of the room, blood rushing to her cheeks.

“How are you settling in?” Asala leaned back against the wooden fences surrounding the horses they usually ride to the field. The inquisition was getting volunteers from everywhere. Fresh faces bright with a hope of changing the world, as if such feats didn’t cost lives and blood. Averting her attention from the clashing of weapons, she raised an eyebrow at The Iron Bull.

He shrugged, “it’s good. Your ambassador and spymaster don’t waste their time, they already got my men out scattered all over Orlais.”

Asala yawned, shaking her head slightly, “Sorry, long night.”

“I’d imagine,”

“Don’t worry we’re leaving off to the Hinterlands soon, you’ll get your share of action.” She yawned again, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and stretching to the soles of her feet.

“Ugh, I don’t like this,” Asala grunted, watching from afar as Cullen trained the inquisition soldiers.

“Huh.” The Iron Bull tilted his head “I guess you wouldn’t, you’re a mage and he’s a templar. It just doesn’t mix well.” He said shrugging.

“What? He tell you that he’s a templar?” she raised an eyebrow clearly disgusted

“Nah,” the iron bull shook his head, subtly indicating the man with his chin, “it’s in the way he trains the men, how he holds his shield,”

Rolling her eyes, she grumbled, “and the sword of mercy on his gauntlets.” She was fuming, there had to be someone more qualified than a templar for the job.

Bull raised an eyebrow at her with amusement. “You’ve got a good thing going here, you just need someone up top.”

Asala laughed, “yeah, that’s probably gonna be me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” she scratched at her horns for a second, “No one else is coming up to the position, I’m willing, and I’ll take it.” The cold was bad for her roots, even with her long hair the cold still got to her horns.

“You just sounded real Qunari there”

“I AM a real Qunari Bull,” she rolled her eyes, it was a wonder how she’s yet to be bothered by his remarks, maybe because they’re not really malicious.

“Herald?” An elvhen scout approached her back straight and eyes sharp. Leliana’s people were the first to get used to her presence. “There’s a man claiming to know you.”

Asala pushed away from the fence and straightened with a nod and a resolute, “take me to him.”

The man was an elf, his ebony skin and hazel eyes warmed by Rivain’s sun even as far as Ferelden was. He stood next to an elegant Taslin strider, holding the leash of two bulky Asaarash. His size was comical standing next to the two armored steeds.

Asala’s eyes drifted from the horses and to the staff and box strapped to the pack on one of their backs. “Kost.” She murmured; eyes lowered in respect.

The man hummed, pulling a large worn envelope from his hood. The golden piercings in his face glinted, “Take care Imekari.” He rasped handing her the envelope and turning to mount his strider.

Asala bit her lips in excitement, eyes wide and anticipatory. First thing she did was coax the Asaarash, their intelligent eyes following her every movement.

When they were sufficiently settled, she pulled out her new staff, eyes admiring the Viridium dragon with a shining foci crystal in its mouth and its polished hilt. A metal that she couldn’t recognize but could tell that it conducted her magic well. It was a relief to hold a staff made specifically for her once again.

Turning to the scout who she had forgotten about until now, she hilted the staff to her back and carried the box in her hands as if it carried sacred knowledge. “Take the Asaarash to the stables please.” She said distractedly.

Putting on her piercings felt like a balm to her soul. Like a part of her was returned. It was a hard choice leaving them home when she decided to go to the conclave, but after shit hit the fan, she was glad that they were safe.

The weight of the pointed hoops in her ears settled her, and the way the rest of them settled against her skin was relaxing. Now, she could confidently walk up to the mages and ask for their help, no one could ever stand in her way, she was invincible.

She read over the letter, two steeds for the sake of convenience. The piercings polished and well cared for. The horn caps, pure gold, heavy and absorbing the heat from her skin. There was truly nothing her parents would stop at when it came to her.

Asala was once again back to the stables, waiting for Solas and Varric to go to the Hinterlands is stressing her more than the concept of the bear infested woods itself. Chatting with Bull she kept her gaze trained on the Seeker, she looked charged, letting her anger out on their soldiers. It didn’t matter how angry it made her, Asala wasn’t dumb enough to take along _seeker_ to ask for the mages help.

Varric and Solas approached them and she pushed herself off away from the wooden beam she had leant against and dragged her pack to her mount. It was a pure luck that her parents sent her two Asaarash, Bull was ecstatic when he found out he wouldn’t have to sit on some tiny horse for the whole ride.

With Them all mounted, she urged her horse into a trot. It was a long way to Redcliff and she’d like to get them on her side before their presence in the crossroads grows too inconvenient for Leliana who had been _unexpectedly_ silent about it.

“Hey Boss” Bull drew her attention. They were making their way steadily to the Hinterlands and comfortable silence had took over.

“Mmm?” She turned to him with a raised eyebrow, chewing on her apple in silence.

“I noticed the new get up.” He waved at her face, particularly the pointed hoop at her ear

“Yup.” She answered flippantly

“So, do you go by what everyone’s been calling you or am I reading too much into it? I assume, since you keep insisting that you’re Qunari, that they must mean something.”

“I _am_. I mean, it’s not like I identify as one thing or the other.” She shrugged. “whatever is convenient to you is alright.”

In the Qun, just like everything else accessories had their own meaning. Men, especially the Antaam, wore pointed hoops announcing their rank. The Tamasrans had spheres along their auricles, number, size, and placement all dependent on a tamasran’s exact role. The Saarebas had long bars fixed tightly to their skin stretching from one side of their auricle and ending in another.

Asala wore a mixture of three, like her mother. Her role not yet realized but her potential embraced. Gender had no place under the Qun, Thus adapting to the rigidity of it, how roles were assigned after gender and not the other way around was a very difficult thing.

Bull nodded unbothered, it was refreshing to be with someone who didn’t question what you say, takes your word for it. She wondered sometimes what it felt like to live under the Qun free of societal and gender expectations, but then she’d imagine chains connecting her armor to some handler and she’d shudder with the thought.

The road to the Hinterlands was well known to them by now, and bar a stop at a rundown tower to fetch a book Madam De Fer asked Asala to fetch, their trek to Redcliff was uneventful. That is until they reached the gates of the city and saw the looming rift in front of it.

“I thought I closed them all,” she grumbled, readying for the demons sprouting out. All of them were used to each other’s fighting style by now, even Bull their newest addition was used to the way she put herself in the middle of the fight, Solas’s barriers cold and shimmering against her skin.

They started like usual, picking up pace and dispatching demons effectively when Varric suddenly slowed down. He cocked the arrows into their latch and suddenly he was so very slow, the terror demon turning to him now that he was open to attacks.

Bull threw a chain at the demon and cut it into two, guard foolishly lowered Asala didn’t notice as she took a step back and into one of the time alternating domes, the whole world moved around her like she was dashing on her Asaarash.

Eyes wide, she gripped her staff tightly and fade stepped out of range. It wasn’t difficult, nor was getting rid of the rest of the demons. As soon as her surroundings aligned with her, Asala hollered at them cautioning. Demons dispatched and rift closed, Asala shook her hand squinting at where the sickly green domes pulsated. “Don’t let down your guard. Something’s wrong here.”

Grand enchanter Fiona was acting strange, everyone in Redcliff did. Seeing _her_ trail behind Alexius like an obedient slave was unsettling. Asala glanced at the paper in her hand one last time before she pushed the Chantry door open. To say that what she saw inside was a shock would be an understatement. If Asala didn’t know better she’d say that someone lured her into an ambush, only a rift isn’t something you can just pop up into place.

In the middle of the room, a man was fighting the demons sprouting out from the fade. He knocked back a terror demon before twirling away and setting it on fire effortlessly.

Ugh. A Vint. Those always made her hackles raised, mama used to tell bedtime tales of them. Blood magic and smoke and crackling magic. ‘magic is a friend’ she’d always say, except when it’s wielded by an enemy, and **_Vints_** were always the enemy.

“Watch out Boss. It’s always the pretty ones.” Bull said behind her hand still clasped around his maul.

“Suspicious friends you have there.” He chuckled amused; charm dialed up as he explained things to her.

“Ugh, stop talking as you’re waiting for applause.” She grumbled, restless, time magic was not a joke.

“What? There isn’t one? How disappointing.” His eyes glinted with sarcasm

Rolling her eyes in annoyance she barreled on, “time magic is only theoretical, you can’t expect me to believe pure speculations.” She was NOT falling for a charming smile and sarcastic remarks.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” The Vint, Dorian, said. It made Asala want to laugh, was he blind. No way was someone as… well ‘human, as him is gonna protect _Her_. Staying silent she found her footing in the damp place, searching through the pockets of the men for a key to get them out of the place.

Time magic was, objectively speaking, fascinating. Mama undoubtedly would be excited if she found out about it, after due panicking, but that was a given when it came to obscure dangerous magic. Asala filed everything in her mind, eyes studying the Red Lyrium growing out of the celling, walls, and floors. They made it a priority to get rid of lyrium veins in the Hinterlands, it was disheartening to see it spread this badly.

“Alexius must be somewhere in here; the amulet won’t take us far away from it.” Dorian pointed out.

Now that she could study him, she noticed how comfortably the fade settled against his skin, “It makes sense that the waves of magic would resonate close to the foci. I wouldn’t be surprised if he still was in the throne room.” She murmured.

He turned to her with a stunned expression “A scholar I see, I’d love to pick you mind later.” He grinned charmingly

Rolling her eyes, she said with a raised eyebrow, “let us leave this place with it intact and you’re free to it.”

Finding her companions was jarring. She’d never expected to see them like this, red lyrium glowing in their eyes and emitting from their skin. Bull seemed his usual self, even as broken he looked, he and Dorian kept talking in hushed words as she stared at Varric. He wasn’t as talkative as he usually was, his hands kept rubbing against Bianca like he hadn’t seen her in years and Asala wished so bad that _that_ wasn’t the case. Except that it was, they lost two years where the Elder One found a way to grew red lyrium from people.

The corridors were dark and filled with the mesmerizing yet sickening hue of red lyrium. Faces fixed in a permanent scream stared at them through the crystals bulging from walls, and her companions’ voices were dissociating like they were possessed. Except that they weren’t, and no spirit would do this to a person.

Arguing voices seeped throughout the walls like the Red Lyrium did. With a hushing sound and with her staff tightly clinched, she pushed the door open. The door revealed Leliana, face disfigured from torture, hanging from her wrists. A man picked a knife from an assortment of tools on a nearby table and put it to her neck “talk!” Her bellowed at her.

“I will die first.” She grunted, then her eyes settled on Asala the same time as he did, “or you will.” wrapping her thighs around his Neck when he turned his back to follow her gaze. He struggled in her hold but with a simple twist, the sound of his breaking bones cracked loudly over the noise of clicking metal before he hit the ground in a heap of dead weight.

Hastily searching the man for a key to the chains, Asala worked them open. “You are alive.” Leliana said, voice hoarse and astonished. The same tone it took when she told her she was rescued out of the fade by a woman.

Lost for words Asala made sure that Leliana was free before she shrugged, “That was impressive.”

“Anger is stronger than any pain.” Leliana answered, “do you have weapons?” At Asala’s nod, she pushed through them with single minded focus. “Good. The magister is probably in his chambers.” He voice was subdued, a silence before a storm.

“Aren’t you curious how we got here?” Dorian asked, eyebrows frowned.

The Nightingale was too busy strapping quivers to her back and only answered with a disinterested “No.”

Regardless, he went on “Alexius sent us into the future. This, his victory, the elder one? It was never meant to be.”

Asala watched as Leliana advanced on him, “we need to go back to our time to fix this. If we get to Alexius you will never have to go through this.”

“And mages always wonder why people fear them.” She shook her head, “No _one_ should have this power.”

Asala held in her usual defensiveness, eyes trained on the Nightingales scarred face

“It’s dangerous and unpredictable.” Dorian said. “Before the breach, nothing we did_”

“Enough.” She interrupted, the storm no longer calm, “This is all pretend to you. Some future you hope will never exist. I _suffered._ The _Whole world_ suffered. It **Was** real.” Her voice was cold like hail. Sending shivers down Asala’s spine. This world is an abomination, and it shouldn’t be allowed to happen.

They kept rummaging through rooms, Leliana’s words as well as hers and Dorian’s theory proving to be right when they found the enchanted door. One after another the spell binders fell, and soon they were standing over Alexius’s dead body.

“I’m sorry Dorian.” Asala murmured when she noticed the pain in his eyes at seeing his mentor die. It was a familiar pain that resonated with her, “this Alexius is far too gone, maybe the one in our time can be reasoned with.” She said consolingly, imagining what she would do if she had the chance to save the Dairsmuid circle.

“Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift.”

“An hour?! That’s impossible!” Leliana exclaimed,” you must go now!” The building shook with a loud hoarse roar. An ugly sound that displaced pieces of the ceiling and shook the ground under their feet.

With seemingly mutual understanding Varric and Bull exchanged looks and decided that they would hold the door, Asala frowned and turned to Dorian who was looking at Bull with a frown and his hand was tightening on the amulet. “We will make this count.” She assured them. Knowing that they _had_ to do this.

“Cast your spell. You have time as much as I have arrows.” She said turning to the door. Still, when the bodies hit the floor followed by demons, and her arrows ran out she barged on. Using her bow as a weapon. Asala admired her tenacity, her eyes urgent on Dorian, knowing that she had to stay put if they wanted this future to change, but wanting to go and help her.

The building shook with a sound so loud and raging. Asala threw a barrier on Leliana when she got close enough, holding a Vinatori’s head with her bow at its neck and swinging her body weight to the back and kicking a another down. She was clearly overwhelmed but unwilling to go down without a fight.

In mere seconds, a ringing sound Asala knew to be smites, strong ones at that, passed through the room and she could hear the shattering of glass on both sides of the ceiling. A hail of bows followed, shooting down the stunned demons and giving the Nightingale space to move out of their space and stab one of them with the sharp end of her bow.

Asala’s eyes widened, and she stepped in to help, with enforcements they would have a chance to fight back.

Dorian stopped her “This is their fights,” he urged, pulling her arm, “we have our own. Let’s go.”

She bit her lips sharply, holding back a retort. He was right. No matter the outcome of this fight it won’t change the past, not unless they go back to their time and make sure it never happens.

Watching the exchange between Felix and his father was gutting. Asala didn’t know them but she _knew_ what it felt like to want to give anything and everything if it would keep someone you love alive. If she didn’t know better, she would do everything Magister Alexius did and even worse for Her Aunt to be alive, safe.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over with.” Dorian said, voice carefree and light as if watching the magister be dragged out the room wasn’t hurting him. “Or not.” he sighed, watching as soldiers marched into the hall.

“ _Grand Enchanter_ , imagine how surprised I was to learn that you’d given Redcliff castle to a Tevinter magister.” the king looked tired, and he had a harsh slant to his shadowed eyes.

“King Alistair.” Fiona’s eyes widened and she approached him tentatively

“Especially,” he continued, “since I’m fairly sure that Redcliff belongs to Arl Tegan.”

“Your majesty,” The grand enchanter fumbled, shifting her wight uncomfortably. “We never intended- “

“I know what you intended.” His voice took on a hurt tone, like he was the one who was pressed to the corner, a wall to his back and a fire in front of him. It gritted on Asala’s nerves. She knew he was a good king, everyone did, why then was he acting like an asshole was beyond her. “I wanted to help you, but you’ve made it impossible. You and your followers are no longer welcome in Ferelden.”

“But we have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?” The grand enchanter asked, dejected.

“We came here in the first place _for_ the mages.” Asala said

The grand enchanter turned to her, eyes sharp. Her age showing in the worried lines around her eyes and between her eyebrows. “And what are the terms of this agreement?”

“Hopefully better than the ones Alexius gave you,” Dorian answered, turning to her “the inquisition _is_ better than that yes?”

“I’ve known a lot of mages,” Varric caught her attention, “they can be loyal friends if you let them. Friends who make bad decisions, but still loyal.” He said, as if she needed convincing, as if she was going to put a leash on _her_ people.

“It seems we are at your mercy and we have no choice in the matter but to accept what you offer.” The grand enchanter said, eyes half closed, resignation dimming them.

“The inquisition wants the mages as allies. Equals. You deserve your freedom, and you will have it.”

“A generous offer, but will the rest of inquisition honor it?”

“They will if they want me by their side.” It wasn’t even up for discussion. “The breach threatens all of Thedas they can’t close it without me, or the mages, we need your full support. _Not_ , at the cost of your freedom.”

“It’s a generous offer,” the king cut in, “I doubt you’re going to get a better one from us.” He sounded resolute, but looked sad, disappointed.

“We accept your offer. It would be madness not to.” The grand enchanter looked devastated, Asala doesn’t blame her, it hurts to fight against the chantry for so long only to be forced back under a banner that represents it. “I will gather my people and ready them for the journey to Haven.”

“Wait.” Asala murmured, leaning close. Voice lowered, a whisper that is meant only to the leader of the rebellion’s ears, “you said that many of you can’t fight. There are children with you. I don’t trust Haven to keep you all safe, not with templars close by. I have another place, but let’s take this outside.”

Fiona looked shocked, she pulled away slightly and nodded, “The breach _will_ be closed. You will not regret giving us this chance.”

Asala nodded, with one last glance at the King, she marched out next to Fiona’s side. Head high and eyes tightened, if anyone wanted to challenge her decisions, let them.


	11. Art: Hissera and Kata

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I get bored and drew my Asala's parents? Yes  
> Do I regret it? Nope
> 
> She took after her father in looks, but still has her mother's horns AND magic


	12. Nobility Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of In Hushed Whispers, and getting some time to talk to others?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not what I planned but Have Fun!

The fabled herald of Andraste, walked side by side with the leader of the rebellion. The streets Of Redcliff bustling with noise, and filled to the brim with whispering mages, trepidation evident on their faces.

“I admire how you took the mages this far when they’ve had no militant training or knowledge of the outside world.” Asala broke the silence between them, “even if your latest decision almost caused you the freedom you were fighting for.”

The elven woman looked at her from the corner of her eyes, “It was a desperate choice.” She began, voice lowered and remorseful, “we have lost many lives in the rebellion. The templars are born into militant training but the mages know nothing of it. It was either bow to The Imperium or throw away the lives of hundreds of people who cannot defend themselves.”

“So, it _is_ true. There aren’t many of you who can fight.”

“Yes. Most of those who can fight left to guard the way to Redcliff, even then. They are not enough to protect the children and the apprentices. Even whatever sell swords we can hire aren’t enough.”

“Haven is no place for apprentices and children, there’s plenty of templars there.” At the frown on the woman’s face, she explained, “They claim they aren’t, but you can see the lie in the way they hold themselves. In the superior look in their eyes when they look at us mages.” Asala murmured, eyes downcast, studying the elf’s face, “There is a cult in the Hinterlands, they believe I am the herald and that I am their savior, they wouldn’t doubt the presence of your people there. I think that it would be safe, at least until we’re sure they won’t turn on us as soon as we close the breach.”

The wrinkles around the witch's eyes and mouth receded, and she breathed a sigh of relief, “thank you.”

Asala shook her head, no thanks was needed. Would they thank the birds for flying or the fish for swimming? It is her nature, who she is. 

Arriving at Haven with the mages at her back made many uncomfortable, templars visibly antagonistic. Fiona, the leader of rebels, was behind her on Atra. And THAT definitely drew sneers at their direction.

With an exasperated eye roll, Asala dismounted. Turning to her passenger with a grin and helping her down, Atra _is_ a very large horse. 

On the steps of the gates, stands the nightingale, back ramrod straight, and hands crossed behind her. When they parted from their entourage and were close enough to her, she turned her sharp gaze to Fiona. 

“It is refreshing to see someone put their actions where their words are.” The only thing moving was her face, eyes now settled on Asala with an amused raised brow “You made a bold decision by allying with the mages.”

“You said it yourself,” Asala shrugged, noting how Fiona tensed up and subtly tightened her hold on her staff. “The mages deserve their freedom.”

Humming, Leliana extended a guiding hand and gestured them through the gates, “your actions serve to antagonize the Chantry further.”

she remained silent, until they were in the courtyard and the chantry clerics were eyeing them with disdain, “I don’t care what the _chantry_ thinks.” 

“You should.” Leliana nodded to Fiona, encouraging her to step in when she visibly hesitated at the chantry’s doors, “Regardless. You made the right choice by allying with the mages. We need to capitalize on this. With the factual and emotional high ground on our side.”

“We’ve Assembled our allies and all that’s needed is maintaining our momentum.” Asala recited. The time she spends under Leliana’s tutelage not a waste. The chantry wasn’t her concern, the people were. Whether she liked it or not, the opinion of the masses has a significant effect on their advancement, and they _needed_ to close the breach.

“Precisely.”

“Mistress Adaar,” Josephine drew their attention. Seemingly having heard news of their arrival and standing wait in the chantry hall. “First enchanter.” She curtsied in greeting 

“Fiona is fine.” She corrected in a calmly, as harmless as she could appear.

“I hope your journey was pleasant.” She said to Asala with a smile

Asala stopped herself from frowning and smiled instead, it could be the formal nature of the meeting. “It was. Thank you for your concern Josephine.”

Behind them, the chantry doors opened. Admitting the commander and the seeker. Their expressions grim and conflicted.

“Seeker.” Fiona murmured, head tilted and eyes sharp on the sword of mercy on the commander’s gauntlets.

“Seeker Cassandra,” Asala called with a grin, canines bared, mocking , “See. Now the mages in the wending woods are our allies, and we have enough power to stabilize and close the breach.”

“The mages are dangerous.” Cassandra gritted out, in her usual brash tone

“So are you humans. Don’t see us locking you up in cages no?” She raised a taunting eyebrow

“We do lock dangerous men up, it’s called prison.”

“Yeah. Well, that’s for criminal, unless you believe being born a mage is a crime then I don’t see what you mean.” She crossed her arms, “I’d bet that _you_ killed more people than all mages here did put together.” After a moment she shrugged and added, “excluding me and Solas of course.”

Cassandra looked exasperated, her eyes slid to Fiona and then to Leliana with a frown. Clearly wanting to talk but not wanting to do so in front of her.

“Well seeing that everything went well I think that there’s much to discuss with our spymaster.” Asala says with a raised brow. Challenging the seeker and commander to say anything. Surprisingly, it was Josephine who called her attention.

“If I may have a moment of your time Asala?” She nods respectfully to those assembled and turns to her office.

Asala stares at her for a second, satisfaction buzzing in her mind even though she could feel Leliana’s sharp gaze on her. Turning to Fiona she lowers her voice along with her lashes. “It will be a while till we attempt to close the breach. For now, make sure that everyone is safe and resting.” Fiona nodded. Side eyeing the seeker and giving a last glance to the sword of mercy before leaving the chantry, staff in hand and head raised high.

According to Josephine, they had a deal for supplying Lyrium to everyone in The Inquisition. It took them one step closer to closing the breach. Still the problem of “the elder one” persisted. 

Leliana was oddly silent while they discussed what she’d seen in the future, not even saying much as they argued. Asala wanted to ask, about the smite, about the hail of arrows. It just seemed inappropriate, so she didn’t. 

The tides rise and the tides fall **. Asit tal-eb**.

A deep breath. The cold air branching in her chest like the crack of lightning. In and out. **Asit tal-eb**. In and out.

Red. Broken people, broken sky, sound of bodies discarded as if they were nothing. **Asit tal-eb**. Let it go, it’s not real. Not anymore. **The tides rise, the tides fall.** Deep breaths. The ringing of a nearby smite, crushed glass, notched arrows and tortured faces.

“Ugh!” Asala shook her head and lay back on the cold wooden floor. This wasn’t working. She turned her head to the side, her hair falling into her face. Through the stray strands, the wooden boards under the bed drew her eyes. Temptation itching her hands.

With a sigh she bit her lips and pushed herself up. Contemplating for a second before leaving her hair down and walking out.

Her eyes scanned the people milling by. Charter as usual was scolding some scout, someone was arguing with that asshole merchant. Staring at the stone gate she wondered if Bull would agree to it? They did it different under the Qun, they don’t fight back. He wouldn’t understand her need to fight back, to lash out. He’s probably freaked out by magic too. 

Drifting to the far-off building where Solas was she silently watched him. He was looking at the breach as usual, he never told her why it fascinated him so much, but she can’t deny it was beautiful despite its grim implications. He’s definitely not an option, he will be judgmental of the ‘savage’ ways of the Qun. Blinking slowly, she narrowed her eyes, maybe his _roommate_.

With steady steps, she made her way to him. Avoiding the courtyard and waving a distracted greeting at Varric. He looked bored, but she had bigger concerns. 

Bending sideways at the waist, she put herself into his line of sight with a mischievous grin “Good morning, Solas!”

A blink. “Morning Asala.” He smiled at her, that tiny smile that showed in the corner of his eyes

Straightening when he turned his attention from the breach to her, “how is the new sleeping arrangement?”

“Acceptable. Surprisingly, Pavus is a tolerable presence.”

“Good!” She nodded, “do you know where he is?”

His eyes flitted to the apothecary and away, “the alchemist wasn’t particularly welcoming when he stopped by earlier. I imagine he’s sulking somewhere.”

Nodding she turned to look for him before stopping and tilting her head to the side for a moment, “I don’t think he’s as spoiled as you think he is.”

She heard Solas humming behind her as she left. Rounding the building and looking around for their resident Altus.

The place was white with snow, it’s a wonder he tolerates it enough to leave the warmth of the hearth. Although Solas’s judgmental stares can be deterring even from an oasis in a desert.

She found him on a crate behind the bar. Sitting cross legged and cradling a heavy looking tome, eyes sharp and sliding along the pages with his chin resting on his upturned palm. “Hey.”

“How can I help you?” He straightened, a charming smile at the ready, hand settling on the page with the care of a scholar.

“Uh, sorry for interrupting?” She winced; face tilted in an awkward one-sided grin.

“It’s no matter, I can hardly blame you for wanting the pleasure of my company.” He still had that cocky charming smile on his face.

“I’m lucky then,” she grinned, “that I caught your attention before someone beat me to it.”

“Quite.” He nodded indulging, closing the tome, and blinking at her as if to say go on.

“Ye...ah.” The word left her, awkward and unsure, “There’s no easy way to say this. Well there definitely is I just don’t really, ugh, point is. Wanna fight?”

“Fight?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, eyebrows raised, “I’d ask Bull, but he’s creeped out by magic.” As an afterthought she added, “You are exceptionally powerful too, yeah?”

“Don’t try to win me over with sweet words.” He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes and only manners were stopping him from it. A smile was taking over his face.

“Me?” She grinned, “I’d never.”

“Uh huh.” He stood, pulling his book with him, and picking his staff, that she now notices was leaning on the building. “Very well.”

She grinned wide, “Great!

“Oh right.” She exclaimed turning to him, he was staring mincingly at the frozen lake under their feet “You see those there.” She waved at the general area behind them, “Some of them are former templars, as is the one training them. So,” she twirled her staff a couple times “don’t go all out on me.”

A perfectly shaped eyebrow arched at her as if she were an unreasonable imekari.

“Don’t go soft either.” She shrugged, sighing and explaining “Listen. You’re a Vint and a mage. I’m not gonna pretend I’m the type who would go through the shit you and I went through and still distrust you. But that’s me, not them.”

“Yes well, I didn’t come here expecting hugs and kisses from everyone” they found their footing, each taking their preferable stance and raising barriers.

“I know, just. I know what I’m doing. No matter what happens, don’t let your guard down near a templar. Or show them your full arsenal. Ok?”

“If you say so.”

“We’re drawing attention.” Dorian noted, raising a wall of fire that caught at her free ivory strands, the scent of burnt hair filling the air.

“Pfft” she let a breath out of her nose, wrinkling it and sending lightning under the ice, the same time she fade stepped behind him “they’re templars, they’re intimidated.”

Dropping to the floor to avoid the sharp swing coming at him, he set a fire rune quickly and efficiently, using the impact to push himself away from her and turning with a self-satisfied grin “Ah. Of course, unleashed mages wreaking havoc.” He twirled his staff in the air and slammed it down stopping the crackles heading his way, “those southerners are quite barbaric.”

“Yeah.” She bared her teeth in a wild grin, “tell me about it.” She charged at him. Blood rushing through her veins. This was how it’s supposed to be. No abominable future is gonna stop her. Nothing will. She will get anything, everything, she wants and nothing will stand in her way.

The sound of her staff colliding with Dorian’s was sharp, metal sliding against metal. It was a well-crafted thing. Beautiful, but practical. Its blade scraped against her collarbone, very sharp it could skewer right through her skin if not for the barrier. She was getting cocky, it was dangerous. Magic could only fix so much.

“Looks,” she began out, breath straining and with a grin plastered on her face, “like the templars aren’t the only ones watching.” A nod with her head behind him made him swerve his staff and flip their places, so that he was once again able to see the village of Haven.

“Can’t blame them for admiring perfection.” The Iron Bull and a few of his mercenaries were on the ledge, drinks in hand and watching avidly. Varric was also there, leaning back with a grin that they could see from here. “Are you seriously trusting a Qunari spy, he’s not just _watching_ you know.”

“No Qunari is ever just ‘watching’ you know. It’s your fault if you let your guard down.“ she shrugged. They broke off temporarily. Seizing each other up and deciding how to win this without using any new spells. “Anyway, weren’t you guys close in that fucked up future?”

Dorian scoffed, “ _That_ , was before I knew he was a _Q_ unari, a Ben Hassrath.”

Even knowing how stupid it is, Asala charged first. Her temper always did get her in trouble. “I’m a _Qunari_ too you know.” So close to him, she could see his eye widen and his grip tighten on his staff and she thought. Oh shit, I really shouldn’t have taunted the guy who can easily manipulate time magic.

In the blink of an eye, she was pinned to the ground. A static cage holding her down, only her horns taking the brunt of the impact when she fell back.

“Wow.” She breathed. Unable to speak properly with the air knocked out of her lungs. Her eyes were wide and firmly trained on him. His skin glinted with sweat and his perfectly preened hair was falling in his face. He looked sheepish, giving her a hand and helping her up. He also looked really, really beautiful. 

They both turned to the noise at their back watching the mercenaries cheer and exchange coins between them. “Someone is not happy.” He pointed out.

Her eyes sought Varric who begrudgingly handled Bull a bag of coin. With a raised eyebrow she braced her hands on her hips, a disbelieving tone to her loud voice, “You bet against me?!”

Bull only grinned wider, shrugging and pocketing the little bag.

Shaking her head, she turned to a nearby wooden box and pulled out two water skins and vials of Lyrium. “Here.” She handed it to him “The human Alchemist got a good recipe for purifying Lyrium.”

Dorian murmured his thanks. Winding down and releasing the tension from his shoulders.

“Are you alright?” She asks as they sit back to back, water skin in hand and sweat cooling off on her skin.

“I should be asking you that. You’re the one fighting against fire with your hair down.” Her hair was a mess. Singed at the edges, tangled, and plastered to her skin with sweat.

“Yeah, well. It’s best to fight at your most vulnerable so that you’re never caught off guard.” Dorian was abnormally tall for a human. His back aligning with hers, almost as tall as she was if one didn’t count her horns. “I meant after what happened. I know what its like to lose a mentor, especially when they’re family, it hurts even more.”

"I'm perfectly fine actually but thank you for your concern."

"What happened," she tilted her head, frowning like she was still wrapping her head around it, "What we both went through. It may not be real, but it did happen."

"Gereon made a choice and he paid for it." the silence that followed his words was heavy, "I won't say I'm not glad that he's still alive, but I won't be surprised if the Inquisition decides that he's to be executed for his crime."

Asala hummed, her thumb rubbing against the burn mark on her skin. Remembering the exasperated smile on Rivella's face when Asala was only ten and trying to master the fickle nature of fire magic behind their backs. The memory was bittersweet, like she imagined every memory of her aunt will be. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here." she finally said. voice lowered just so, vulnerability there and then gone. " Let's get up before you freeze stuck to the ground" she joked

"I don't know why you chose this frozen wasteland in the first place." he rolled his eyes, playing along.

She shrugged, "Ask them. I was dragged here in chains." 

When they were close enough to the solid ground, she could recognize a faint waft of distress in the air amidst the more prominent scents around. 

Turning to Dorian she could see him exchanging jabs with Varric and Bull. Assured, she turned to follow the trace of the scent, only for her eyes to land on Lady Montilyet. 

She was speaking with the blacksmith, delicate hands holding her board. Her golden dress was as immaculate as usual, except where it was slightly wrinkled as if she was tightly grasping it until now. 

“Josephine.” She greeted with a smile, taking note of how she could catch a waft of distress from her. 

“Asala.” She turned, surprised, a polite smile on her face

“Are you alright?” She asked, wondering what she wanted from the smith that a runner couldn’t deliver, she couldn’t remember his name but it wasn’t like she’d bothered to try

“Oh, yes! I was just talking to Mr. Harritt about our Lyrium shipment.” 

Ah, that was his name. “It’s here already?”

“It will be.”

Asala hummed, watching silently as the ambassador talked to the smith, her pen gliding across the page on her board. At least the scent of distress wasn’t there anymore. 

“Let me walk you back.” She offered when Josephine was done 

“You don’t need to!”

“Of course,” she grinned, “I want to.”

As they were walking back Josephine broke the silence, “I'm surprised you and Lord Dorian disagreed.”

“Oh.” So that was what it was about, “We didn’t. We were just… training.” That was the word she could’ve used instead of fighting! Ugh the king’s tongue was a poor language 

“Oh. That’s good then.”

Asala nodded. Walking in silence until they were inside the chantry. Someone called her attention, voice carrying between the stone walls of the chantry. She excused herself when they were at Josephine’s office, and went to a clearly displeased Madam De Fer. 

“I’m sorry for taking your time, Leliana insisted.” Asala took a seat on the guest chair in Josephine’s office. Silent for a moment, waiting to see if it would hold her weight or give up and collapse under her, she breathed a sigh of relief when it held and turned attentive eyes to the Ambassador. 

“Not at all. It is my pleasure.” Josephine smiled, pulling out a very organized stack of papers and giving them place among the organized supplies on her desk. 

“Oh. Alright.” 

Done with organizing her table, she pulled out a very organized table of subjects “Well I suppose you can pick one of those and we can start.”

Asala stared for a moment. When Leliana said ‘you need to learn other things than how to more than how to manipulate people, she thought oh she’s going to teach me more about being a bard. But then she sent her to Josephine to lean _politics_ of all things and she couldn’t really say no because you don’t say no to Leliana. “I’ve always been curious about the reigning king and queen of Ferelden.” She tentatively said. They were gray wardens, and she’d met gray wardens before. 

“Ah. Yes. There was quite a complex and elaborate political maneuver involved.” Josephine nodded, striking a line through a circle next to the topic and closing the book to turn her attention to Asala “As you know Wardens refrain from involving themselves in politics. This dates back to …”

“And **_that_** happened without spilling blood?!” Wide eyed Asala asked incredulously, sitting on the edge of her seat with her chin on her hand and nodding along 

“If the accounts of that day are to be believed, it can be interpreted that the former Queen Anora was used for her testimony against her father under false promises by the current Queen.”

“But it’s all speculation, right? Anora could’ve been making it up.”

“Many things were wrong with Fereldan during the fifth blight. I suppose that not many were keen on making a liar out of the only people who could protect them from the archdemon.” Josephine tapped her nails against the desktop “According to Leliana, and she was there with the queen at the time, Queen Cousland gathered the favor of many nobles so when the time came, almost everyone backed them. Then it was a simple matter of bloodline fealty.

“I suppose fear is as strong as revenge in motivation.” She murmured 

“Well, in politics, as long as you know where and how to aim that fear, I suppose you would be right.” 

“The Queen crossed many in her rise to power. How was she not assassinated yet?” Asala wondered in awe. “Or overthrown even?!” 

“You would be surprised at how many attempts there were. Being handy with a sword is one of her saving graces.” Josephine counted on her fingers, “and being The Hero of Ferelden tends to have an effect on the public.” 

“Huh.” Asala looked contemplative for a moment. So, helping others even if you didn’t really care for them could get you that far… imagine if they were nobles with power and influence, _that_ would definitely be a leverage. “Thank you for your time Josephine. I really enjoyed this.” She said with a smile, cogs turning in the back of her mind

“You’re welcome.” She smiled back tucking away the papers they used and the elaborate diagrams into their respective places. “It was entertaining, and _you_ are a quick study.”

“I think that has to do with having a capable teacher more than anything else.” 

“Oh. You must introduce us then! I would love to see them.” Josephine smiled wide, sitting back in her chair, prepared to go back to her Ambassador duties. 

“Uhh.” Asala nodded dumbly, then awkwardly pointed out, “Oh. Would you look at the time. It sure passes quickly when you’re having fun. I will leave you to work then.”

When she turned to leave, she saw researcher Minaeve looking at her. Mouth hidden behind her hand to hide her laughter, but the shake of her shoulders an undeniable proof. 

Opening her mouth to talk then not having anything to say, Asala huffed, blushing and left the room with haste. Only to stand face to face with a very curious looking Nightingale. 

“How was your lesson?” She asked 

“Great!” She said with an awkward grin. Leliana stared at her with an eyebrow raised prompting her to elaborate. “We talked about the Landsmeet in 9:30 Dragon.” 

An intimidating smile crept on the spymaster’s face, “That brings back memories.”

Remembering that she was there for it, Asala made sure to check the chantry for anyone listening before she whispered, “Is it true that the Queen used underhanded methods to get the throne?” 

Unexpectedly, Leliana laughed. The voice surprising and melodic, her usually sharp eyes softening with it before the smile turned to a sharp grin, “Oh certainly.” 

Asala’s eyes widened and she could feel her heart pounding like she was still an imekari and papa offered to teach her how to fight like a Ben Hassrath. “Will you tell me?” She asked, voice pitched in excitement 

“Maybe later.” Leliana said, watching with interest how Asala pouted and then went back to her professional expression. 

“Alright. Okay.” Asala nodded, “ _I_ need to go though so. Yeah. Bye.” She left the chantry with Josephine’s voice, Leliana’s laugh and the Queen’s story in her head, scattering her thoughts like a brewing storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wondered why they never mention the "weak links" of the mage ribillion.  
> They're portrayed as if they were equal to the templars when the majority of them aren't trained for war, or real life.  
> Oh and it's Canon that when you side with the mages the 'apostates' in the wending woods disappear. I've always had this cannon of them joining with everyone else.


	13. Lost Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to the Fallow Mire and then they get drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit long huh

Asala yawned wide, covering her mouth with her forearm. She was restless, an ache in her muscle from meditating for so long. Mapping out the pros and cons of sucking up to humans proved to be a very draining process.

The king and queen of Ferelden changed many things during their reign. Everyone everywhere heard of it. How an elf was of the kings curt, how they gave complete control of the Alienages to those who live in them. Even the circle of magi there was different. She remembers how the circle runaways would tell of their friends who chose to go to Ferelden instead of Rivaine.

It all certainly didn’t come free of charge. Asala could only imagine what sort of things she could change if she plays her cards right into a high enough position. When she told Bull that she would be the leader, it was more or less an impulse of hers. Mages can’t really hold positions that high at least not in Ferelden, but then Josephine told her about the current Queen of Ferelden, and if a gray warden can become a queen, then what was stopping her from leading this cult who is obsessed with her?!

She was lost in thought when she noticed that Leliana was calling her. She turned, attentive, “yes?”

The Nightingale had a grim set to her eyes, “News arrived.” She began, ushering Asala to the relative privacy of her tent. “A number of inquisition soldiers went missing in the uncharted marches to the west of Ferelden.” She explained, flipping through several papers stacked around the table

“Uncharted marches?”

“The Fallow Mire.” She turned, a stack of reports in hand and gesturing towards the chantry with another. “my scouts will provide you with additional details when you get there, but these are their latest reports.”

“I hope they don’t have the same fate as the ones lost in the Storm Coast.” She sighed, taking the papers and skimming through them as they walked to the chantry. “Spirits.” She murmured with a frown

“There’s something else I want you to look into.” She turned to face her, voice lowered and eyes sharp “Several months ago, the gray wardens of Ferelden disappeared. I’ve sent word to those in Orlais but they have also disappeared.” She sighed with a frown on her face, “I didn’t want to think that they could be involved in something like this, but their timing is… curious.”

“That does sound odd.” What would the gray wardens benefit from killing the divine? 

“Others have disregarded my suspicions, but I refuse to ignore it. Two days ago, my agents in the Hinterlands heard news of a gray warden by the name of Blackwall. I need you to seek him out, he might have answers that could put my mind at ease.”

Asala nodded. Turning the idea in her head. The Wardens were neutral in matters of politics, but that didn’t stop the king and queen from taking the throne, so why would it stop whoever has it in their mind to intervene with the conclave. “You have to consider that he might not.”

“It doesn’t matter. We need any answers we can get.”

Asala traced a sharp claw on map, following the path to the marches, “We’ll stop by the Hinterlands on the way.”

“Very well. My agents will be waiting for you. Stop by me before you leave.” Leliana said, before they parted ways.

On her way to her hut, Varric stopped her with a wave.

“Word is you’re headed to the Fallow Mire.” He said by way of greeting

“What word?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. They weren’t particularly discreet, but they weren’t loud either.

“Word travels by quickly the closer you are to the ground.” He shrugged

She barked a laugh, surprised “What does that even mean.”

He shrugged her question away grinning, “Anyway. I hope you don’t need me there, because I’m not going anywhere near a place called The Fallow Mire.”

Her laugh quiets to a wide grin. “It’s alright. I still don’t know much about the place. Probably gonna end up dragging Dorian with me, although I have a feeling, he won’t like it.”

“A prim and proper magister not liking a place called The Fallow Mire? Impossible.”

“Stop that.” She shook her head with a grin bumping her boot against his playfully, “He’s an Altus, not a magister, and anyway he needs to get used to Ferelden. At least I won’t be the only one suffering.”

“Don’t you and Bull bitch about the south all the time.” He asks with a disbelieving raised eyebrow, “and if I recall correctly you guys give me shit for complaining about the outdoors.”

She rolls her eyes huffing, “He’s only doing that for me, he’s clearly used to it.” she shakes her head, “and we just like to get on your nerves when we’re bored.” It didn’t matter if he was doing it for her or for the sake of gaining her trust, she wouldn’t have him at her back if she didn’t trust him.

“Lucky me.”

“Alright.” Raising the bundle of papers in her hand, she nodded to her hut “gotta go through those before dusk.”

“Good luck.” He grimaced

“Thanks!” She laughed waving at him and thinking of how to convince Leliana that not taking a rogue with them is a reasonable choice of action.

Having gone through the scout’s reports, Asala was assured that taking Sera with her is practically impossible. The girl couldn’t stay in the same place as mages, let alone go to a place full of spirits. “It’s not like a rouge is necessary. Mages fight far range too.”

“You need to have a balanced team.” Leliana said with an exasperated sigh. Why were world saving heroes always so stubborn?

“Varric doesn’t want to come to The Fallow Mire. He was really against it.” Asala insisted, “And didn’t your scouts say that spirits were roaming around? I doubt Sera is gonna like it. She’s all weird about magic and anything related to fade shit.” Did that girl even dream??

Leliana raised her eyebrows in what Asala interpreted as reprimand, thought for her language or her insistence she didn’t know. “It is your team. You get to decide who you want to take. I advise you however to at least take a rogue with you in cases of emergency.”

“You said that we shouldn’t be more than four for security reasons?” It made sense at the time when she was comfortable with the dynamic team she had, but now she met Dorian and she couldn’t wait to go out with him in the field and see his skills in action.

“They will remain in camp while you and your companions cover the area.” Leliana explained patiently. Everyone had left the war room already, only the two remained to go over the finer details of the quest.

Asala pouted trying to find a way around her logic, but it was like trying to convince her mama that meditation is useless. Not only was she wrong and knew it, she was also talking to someone who saw right through her “I’ll let Sera know.”

“Good.” The Nightingale nodded, her eyes creasing with satisfaction.

“That.” Dorian pointed out “Was a very large man.”

Eyebrows raised Asala exclaimed “No shit.” She was still reeling from the surprise of the meeting. The human was large, very large. He was as large as Bull! Were humans even made that size!? “Can you imagine if he really wanted to fight us.”

“I’d rather not.” He really didn’t want the scent of burning flesh to add to the putrid air of the mire. Larger bodies do tend to burn faster than their counterparts.

“You say that, but I bet you too are eager to find out how fast he burns.” Her face tilted with a grin that was a bit off the sane side.

“I don’t know how you get away with saying shit like that Boss.” Bull shuddered, glancing at Solas who pretended like nothing particularly wrong was going on.

She barked a laugh, sending a bolt of lightning to take down one of the corpses ambling their way, “Get away with it?” Lightning jumped off her skin like pebbles on a lake, it was a favorite feeling of hers, “What are they gonna do? Lock me up?”

Bull shrugged; muscles stretched tighter than they would if he were as nonchalant as he wanted to appear. Even without it, the faint scent of distress could only have one source.

“They can try to.” she tempered her grin and magic, canines no longer bared and thunder hiding under her skin. He was a good guy, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, not like this.

The horde of corpses surrounding the gates was too overwhelming for them to take down and still have enough stamina to take down the Avaar who challenged them. They ended up locking them behind the gate and taking a break in the shelter of the passage above it.

Heaving a sigh, Asala watched her companions bite into their rations. The ground was cold, but it was nothing compared to the bone biting chill of the damp swamp. “Ugh, we better get moving. The quicker we are, the faster we’re out of this place.”

“Considering your fascination with spirits I’m surprised you want to leave.” Asala Raised an eyebrow at Dorian, it’s not a secret, but she didn’t make it a point to bring it up where Bull was around “I overheard you and Solas.” He explained shrugging.

“I do like them.” She murmured, aware of Bull’s eyes on her “Just not like this.”

“This place is a beacon to spirits, made even more so with the breach.” Solas said wistfully, as if he felt sorry for them, as if they were sentient beings with thoughts and emotions. 

“Yeah. Seeing them like this makes me sad.” She mumbled, noticing that Bull was oddly silent. Not unsettled, but something close. Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, she stood stretching. “Let’s get going then.” She said, gathering her staff and dawning what’s left in her water-skin.

The chieftain’s son who challenged her, ended up being larger than they all expected, but honestly they should’ve seen it coming.

It was a rough fight, and secretly Asala wished that she brought a rogue with her. What mattered at the end is that they won, several injuries notwithstanding, and they did end up finding out that he burned out really fast.

Breathless and with countless aches, Asala struggled to get to the side door where the inquisition soldiers had to be. The door was closed, obviously. And they barely had energy to go back to camp, let alone return with Sera in taw.

Bull grunted, drawing her attention to him and gesturing with his head away from the door. Then it was a simple matter of a sharp swing with his maul and the door was splinters on the ground.

Asala watched, tongue pressed between her teeth as they regaled her with praise. It was uncomfortable, but somehow satisfying. They looked at her as if she was sent by their god, and belatedly she realized that they believed that. That she was sent by the maker to save the world and apparently them.

As they pulled one another upright and helped those that can’t stand on their own, she wondered how far those people would go for her if she asked.

“Boss” Bull called, pulling her away from where she was frozen, watching the soldiers stumble on each other. She had a calculating air about her, unguarded, thoughtful. Her hand tightening around her staff the only indication that he had startled her.

Easing up the hold on her staff, she filed away her thoughts for later inspection. “yes?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We need to get moving.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, eyebrows frowning when she remembered that they needed to go past the horde at the gate.

Her survey of her companion’s readiness for another fight was interrupted by the large shadow of the sky watcher. Maybe he came to deliver on his promise to Solas’s remark. With a grimace, she put herself in front of her companions and him, absently noticing how Bull gripped his maul at the ready standing near enough that it wouldn’t challenge her leadership yet close enough for a swing to land if it were warranted. “Did you come for revenge?” She asked mildly, they probably shouldn’t fight him, but if they had to, she wouldn’t cower.

“Your god looks after you Herald.” The sky watcher pointed out, hauling his maul on his shoulder. “There lies the brat. His father would duel me if he cared enough.”

Asala watched silently, grip tight on her staff. She could renounce the name, say it wasn’t true. That won’t get her far though. “You could join us instead.” She took a risk. Seems like it’s all she’s been doing lately, lying to people and taking risks. “We have a purpose your chief lacks.”

The sky watcher hummed, eyes to the sky. “

The sky watcher hummed, eyes to the sky. “Is it why the lady of the skies led me here? To help heal the wounds in her skin?” He sounded contemplative, but also decided. “Aye. I’ll join ya. Let me make peace with my kin and I’ll find where you set your flag.” He walked past them, towards the scattered bodies.

Asala made sure that he stayed in her line of sight until he disappeared behind the fog.

“Looks like our new friend cleared the path for us already.” Dorian remarked, eyes on the clear path behind the gate. “I don’t even want to find out how he got past the gate.”

Asala grunted, calculating the risk of not taking the last remaining healing potion now, and regretting it later. “Probably climbed up or something.” She ended up drinking it. Better safe than sorry.

“At least we can leave now.”

“Mmh” she didn’t really have the energy to think of a reply to him. She’s never been pushed this far before, now that the rush of the fight was gone she could recognize the fade like thick molasses against her skin. Voices clamoring and loud. If she had doubts that he was a powerful mage, they would’ve been all put to rest after this fight. How is he still talking!?

“We will want to launder our clothes later.” Solas said when they were past the swamps. “Or burn them.” He muttered when he stepped into a particularly slimy puddle.

Asala nodded, thankful that she had the wisdom to leave her armor and wear something else. The Blacksmith, Harritt?, made an effort at making something close to what she wore. It didn’t really measure up, but it was better than ruining her armor. “Oh, I’m definitely burning it.”

She and Solas were at the front, the soldiers sandwiched between them and Bull and Dorian at the back. A convenient formation, if only they’d shut up for a moment “why are they still bickering?” She groaned, glancing back, the wind was not strong, but the downslope was enough to carry the impression of their voices to where she was. “How are they not tired?” She wasn’t jealous, not at all.

Surprisingly, Sera and Dorian got along well. Of course after Sera got over her initial wariness. Asala would’ve said that things went smoothly, except that she’d be lying.

Whenever Sera was in proximity to Solas, it was like he was compelled to get her to be proud of her heritage. Asala doesn’t really understand what the problem is, and she doesn’t intend on digging into it. It was none of her business, she just wished that Solas would knock it off and understand that too.

Even so, it was a pleasant outing. They got enough resources to provide adequate fitting of the mages and whatever new soldiers deciding to join the inquisition. It wasn’t only minerals they got. They needed lots of herbs, medicinal and otherwise.

Asala rode Atra leisurely, the heat from her mount a welcome relief from the cold of Fereldan. Reflecting on how the people she helped seemed more invested in pleasing her than those who simply believed her being the herald.

The noise behind her reminded her of her days at the company. Sera, Bull and Dorian were bickering, voices echoing in the path back to Haven. They were close enough to hear the clash of weapons. “Varric would love a night in for Wicked grace.” She added to the noise behind her.

They all stopped talking as one, eyeing her with interest, “and this night in includes the certain company of liquor?” Dorian asked, feigning disinterest

“Yeah sure.” She shrugged, “whatever you like.”

“You’re getting Dorian posh booze?” Sera laughed, kicking him from her place on her horse.

Asala laughed, turning to face them, “I’ll get you what you want too Sera. You should all come.” As they all seemed alright with it she nodded “it’s decided then.”

Asala turned back to the road, scanning the place, and noticing the many pots scattered around. Looks like lady Korpin and that smuggler Varric recruited delivered on their word.

The closer she gets she can see the Seeker arguing with a mage. Uncomfortable, she jumped from her horse, absently handing Bull the reins and heading towards the argument.

“And what are we supposed to do exactly?” The mage asked, hands waving around in agitation 

“What you always do,” the Seeker sneered “complain.”

”We’ve already spoken with commander Cullen. No one listens.” He looked angry, but his body language betrayed him. Asala was well aquatinted with fear turned anger, “we want better quarters, we want the templars kept at a distance, and some respect for…” 

He was interrupted by the Seeker’s scoff, “This is not the circle. You mages are allies, not our wards. Act. Like it.”

“But…”

”Deal. With. It.”

“Something’s wrong?” Asala asked, standing next to the mage and staring the Seeker down.

”Herald.” Her eyes tightened even further “The mages are here as equals, they need to get used to it.”

Asala frowned, turning to the mage who shrunk visibly under her gaze, “I don’t believe he said anything wrong. Why are the templars pestering the mages?”

The Seeker frowned, eyes darting to the mage and back up to the Herald, “you can’t possibly let them go unmonitored.” 

“Wasn’t it you who said that this wasn’t the circle? Not to mention him speaking of respect. Do you really want to antagonize the mages when you need us the most?” 

The seeker let out a disgusted noise, her sharp gaze setting on the mage. Making him turn away and retreat to the rest of the mages. “Herald. You made a decision when it needed to be done, and it got us here.” The creases between her brows lessened, “You may think that I disapprove, but I understand the magnitude of your choice.”

”If you do,” Asala shifted her weight, trying to not appear visibly aggressive, otherwise Leliana wouldn’t let her hear the end of it, “then you will understand that when I say that the templars should stay away from the mages, then they should stay away from the mages.”

“You are coddling them!”

“Just as the templars were cuddled by your chantry for over 900 years.” She seethed. Leliana’s warning about appearing united, the only thing keeping her from raising her voice.

“Herald,” the Seeker frowned

“I don’t care what you have to say in this Seeker,” Asala interrupted, eyes narrowed. “It’s simple, the mages don’t feel safe with your dogs around, so keep them on a leash.” When the Seeker looked like she was about to protest Asala took sweet sweet pleasure in shutting it down, “Deal, With it.” She scoffed, turning away. To think that she’d made it clear to Vivienne that she didn’t want the mages watched.

She could feel the eyes on her back even as she walked away. Heading towards the empty space near the trebuchets, where the mages gathered.

“Is everything alright?” She asked, voice kind.

“Herald.” Fiona turned to her, the mage who was arguing with the seeker standing beside her looking scolded. “I am sorry that you had to argue with the Seeker. I told him not to make a big deal of it.”

“It’s alright.” She shook her head, eyes studying the camp around her. The place wasn’t ideal, but they had to make do. It was surprisingly warm though, like a different place entirely. “Your freedom is as valuable as anyone else’s. If they can’t understand that, then it’s on them.”

Fiona followed her eyes, a few mages were focused on cooking something on a fire and others were sitting huddled together voices lowered to whispers. “You could join us if you’d like.” She invited. Drawing the attention of the mages, some looked excited and others uncomfortable.

Asala bit her lip, looking down at her dirty clothes. She could feel every particle of dirt stuck to her skin. “I would love nothing more.” She said honestly. “I need to take a bath and I have to report to the war council though.”

Fiona nodded in understanding, and a few of the mages looked disappointed, “I understand. Perhaps another time?”

Asala grinned her eyes crinkling, she missed having the comfort of being among mages and feeling their magic intwine with hers, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Excuse me.” A voice called behind her and Asala turned to it, the softness and warmth in her face disappearing as quick and natural as it appeared.

“It looks like your attention is needed elsewhere.” Fiona excused herself, nodding and going back to her people.

Asala raised an eyebrow at the woman in templar armor “I think I was clear when I talked to the Seeker.” She drawled, impatient

“My name is Lysette.” The templar started, eyes scrutinizing “you’re the one they’re calling the herald.”

“And?” She huffed, rolling her eyes, “I don’t have all day, out with it.”

“I did not join the Order to adjust my faith so easily, but I appreciate what the Inquisition is trying to do, and your role in it. Though you may find not many templars do. We're a distrustful lot by nature.”

Asala scoffed, the audacity “I don’t really care what’s the nature of your order.” Stretching her muscles, she easily dwarfed the human templar, a simple and effective way to make her opinion known “to be frank I couldn’t care less if all you chantry dogs crawled into a pile and died.”

The woman looked disdained, eyes wide. Probably didn’t expect such open hostility, especially not in front of all the mages watching silently behind her. “How could you say that!?” She asked, “we are trying our best to uphold chantry law and help the mages through these troubled times!”

Asala looked at her for a long moment, “are you dumb?” She asked incredulously, it seemed that denial was another trait the templars had in their arsenal. “You templars are nothing but oppressors. Fucking tools for the chantry to point where they want destruction and chaos.”

The templar pursed her lips, “Some people would say that the mages are nothing more than unstable weapons. What you forget, when you say that, is that we are people. As perfect as we are flawed.”

“Of course, and we mages are less than people, we need someone to oversee us. To protect us from ourselves. How did I not see that.” The sarcasm in her voice was sharp

“I know that. I know that power can corrupt. It's a delicate balance.” The templar looked at her for a moment, before shaking her head , “One person trying to do something can make a difference. You should keep that in mind, Herald.”

Asala looked disgusted at the retreating back of that templar, how can someone be so fucking audacious and entitled!? “Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. Heading to her room for a much needed soak.

“Herald.” Leliana greeted her, she and the rest of the war council were gathered already. “We were just talking about you.”

“Yeah?” Asala locked the door behind her, eyes subtly studying the room.

“The mages are welling to close the breach but that doesn’t mean they’re ready to do so.” The Seeker said. She doesn’t look like they had a fight hours ago, then again looks can be deceiving.

Asala hummed, watching the map with interest. In such little time, their presence spread across Ferelden and was slowly making its way through Orlais. “What do you suggest.”

“We need mages who are familiar with your mark, and the rift to train the free mages.” Leliana explained, “which means you won’t have access to Solas or Dorian in your next outing.”

Asala frowned, “I guess you’re right,” she went through who she could bring with her. Sera was nice, she trusted her, Varric too. Bull was a given at this point. It wouldn’t be the same as having another mage with her but she could probably make it work. “Alright.”

Leliana studied her for a second before moving onto other matters.

After the end of the meeting Leliana called her to remain even as everyone else left the room. “There’s another thing.”

“Is this about Blackwall?” Asala asked. The warden didn’t seem to know anything about what was going. She didn’t spend much time with him, since they split ways as soon as they found him.

Leliana shook her head, “I spoke with him. It was not helpful. But that isn’t what I want to talk about.”

“What is it then?” Asala tilted her head pushing herself up to sit on the war table, comfortable with talking to Leliana with her guard down. It wasn’t a smart move but then again she didn’t make a living out of caution and fear.

“You have a preference when it comes to the companions you take with you out in the field.” She started, unconcerned with Asala looming over her, “that is understandable, but it also makes you vulnerable. Predictable.”

Asala frowned, “What do you want me to do about it. I trust them, that’s why they’re with me.”

“Precisely.” The way the spymaster stared at Asala made a shiver go down her spine. She was truly a terrifying woman. “That is why you need to take others with you the next time you leave.”

“What? No.”

“Those people offered themselves and their skills for you to use. It would be a waste if you don’t just because you don’t trust them.”

Asala frowned, “That’s not fair.” Why was Leliana playing the Qun game, more importantly why did she know it. 

“Life isn’t fair.” The Nightingale said, matter of fact. “I advise you to take Madam De Fer, Sera, and Cassandra on your next outing.”

Asala looked disgruntled, “can’t I take Blackwall? He’s new, it would be good to get to know him.” Leliana watched her, eyes sharp like the twin blade holstered at her thighs. “Alright, Alright. I’ll do it.” She rolled her eyes, just because she knew she couldn’t say no to Leliana didn’t mean that she had to go without a fight. “If I die that’s on you though.”

Leliana hummed unconcerned, “With that out of the way I think it now is an appropriate time for another of your lessons.”

Asala’s eyes widened, glinting with excitement.

Not too long after their return to Haven, Asala was so tired of accommodating people and the visiting “dignitaries” that all she wanted was to get hammered with her crew. Since that was impossible, considering they were probably half a world away, she settled for drinking with her current companions.

It was early in the evening, the sun had just set, when she went looking for Dorian. Everything was set, and everyone was there, it was just him missing.

Perplexed, she searched for him outside the gates, the only place her could be without drawing attention. The courtyard seemed subdued without the clanking of weapons, most people already retired for the day.

She stood at the gates watching, listening. The cold was biting this late at night, making a shiver run down her spine. Faintly she could feel the pull of the fade and magic from where the free mages were camping, so she followed the trail absently counting the knots on her armor.

When she arrived, she leaned silently on the tree beside her. Watching how the mages looked excited watching Dorian as he spoke to them with a grin and a glint in his eyes. It must feel good to him to be surrounded by magic again. Homesickness was a shared sentiment between them.

“Hey.” She called out, reluctant to interrupt what seems to be an exciting lesson, if it weren’t for the people in her hut she’d be sitting down with the mages by now, alas.

Dorian turned to her, his smile unwavering, “Asala!”

She smiled apologetically, nodding to those around him “I was looking for you.”

He raised his eyebrows in question, then stood. Straightening his robes and bowing to the mages “it seems that I am wanted elsewhere. Good night everyone.” He walked beside her, the mages turning their attention back to whatever it was they were doing.

“You seem popular.” She teased

“Of course!” He rested a palm on his chest feigning offense, “have you not met me!?”

Asala rolled her eyes, amused, watching as the cold turned his golden skin a deep shade of red, “Mmh of course I did. You know who else I’ve met?” She grinned mischievously.

“Oh do tell.”

“A certain merchant, with a certain Tevinter brew,” she teased, opening the door of her hut and getting into the warmth of it. Even without the fire blazing, the merriment had its own warmth.

Dorian looked at her expectantly, and she pulled the bottle from beside her bed.

“Kaffas!” His eyes widened, snatching the bottle from her with awe, “This proves it, you really are maker sent. How otherwise would you get a bottle of Sun-Vint in this backwater country!”

Needless to say the night went pleasantly, everyone putting their everything into the game of Wicked grace. Until they decided to start betting on their clothes and Solas politely excused himself to spectating.

“Krem says that the demon took the shape of the Seeker before they chopped it in half.” Bull finished telling his story, as they finished yet another round.

Asala whistled, trying to reign in her excitement as to not jostle Sera, sprawled over her and Dorian. “I’ve never met an Envy demon before!”

“Ugh. Let’s hope that we don’t. I would very much not like killing someone with my gorgeous face.” Dorian said as he unbuckled and pulled off another belt from his yet to be lost robe.

“Hear, hear.” Varric raised his tankard, “to not meeting crappy demons who steal your …” he trailed off squinting his eyes. Probably trying to remember what he was saying.

Asala grinned, leaning on her hand, and turning to Solas who shrugged at her as if to say yes of course I’ve met one. She opened her mouth to talk and it was interrupted by a yawn. She didn’t drink as much as they did, they were all absolutely hammered, only her and Solas nursing their drinks while the others emptied bottle after another.

She mumbled something about clearing her head, and removed Sera’s sprawled legs away from her lab before standing and making her way out.

Outside she could see the telltale golden glow of the ambassador’s dress, making her way back to the chantry. It was late, the moon high in the sky. Illuminating the snow and joining the braziers in lightning up the place.

“Asala!” Josephine looked surprised to see her, raising a hand to her mouth in shock, before adjusting her dress and smiling softly, her cheeks and nose a deep red hue.

“You’re cold.” She murmured, eyebrows frowned, raising her hand to touch Josephine’s cheek. The flush on her face spread, like the cold itself couldn’t resist but lay kisses across her skin.

“Oh” Josephine whispered, the light in the sky reflecting in the enchanting silver of her eyes. “You’re surprisingly warm.” Her cheek borrowed against Asala’s palm, seeking the warmth of her skin.

“We Qunari tend to run hot.” She explained, entranced by the feel of the soft skin against her hand. “You shouldn’t be outside, the wind in Haven is merciless.”

“Unfortunately I must welcome the delegates and accompany them on their way out, it is vital for the image of the inquisition, and it is my job.”

Asala frowned, then shook her head. “You’re right, of course.” Lowering her hand she smiled, “I will not keep you here longer than you have to. Good night.”

Josephine smiled that charming smile of hers, “Good night to you too Asala.”

Asala bit her the inside of her lips as she watched the retreating back of the ambassador. With a sigh, she went back to the bustle inside, closing the door behind her and staring as Dorian and Bull were locked into some sort of staring contest.

“Oh you’re back.” Varric pointed out, drawing Dorian’s eyes to her, losing the staring contest they had going and apparently what was left in the last bottle. Bull chugged at it with a grin aimed at Dorian.

“You!” Dorian aimed at her eyes squinted and apparently angry? “You cost me the rest of my bottle!!” His accusing voice tapered into a whine that he probably would never admit to.

Asala assessed the scene, Sera and Solas were on her bed. One lost to the world and the other watching the events unfold with amusement. “Sorry?”

Dorian scuffed, mumbling under his breath before squinting his eyes at her. “Why are your eyes like that?!”

She touched her face, surprised, “like what?”

He squinted at her, then at Bull, then back to her. “The white of your eyes is black. Kind of… creepy.”

Lowering her hand she smiled, “What, never seen a Qunari with black sclera?”

Dorian hummed, then shook his head “Nope.”

Varric, who was watching with amusement so far turned to her, “the Arishok in Kirkwall had eyes like yours.” He hiccuped, “minus the purple color. Is that from the magic you do? Like the lightning just seeps into your eyes or something.”

Asala barked a laugh, they were truly sloshed, absolutely hammered. Amused, she shook her head at them, “Alright that’s enough for today, everyone out.”

Dorian watched her for a moment before shrugging, “you’re out of drinks anyway.” He stumbled up, walking gracefully for someone that drunk.

Bull stood, jerking his head towards the snoring Sera, “need help with her?”

She shook her head, “Nah. Let her sleep it off.”

Bull shrugged, mumbling a good night, and leaving with the bottle he won.

“Good night.” Solas said, leaving with a smile.

“This was fun.” Varric nudged her, “let’s do this again sometime.”

“Sure thing.” She waved him away, “good night Varric.”


	14. And They May Be Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finishing unfinished business before closing the breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this whole thing written and waiting For the final edit in my drafts but l couldn’t do it bc of my midterm. Now I can so. Enjoy!

When Asala woke up, she didn't startle. It was close enough though. She misses feeling of the slow dissent of awareness where she would take a few moments to adjust to being out of the fade. Ever since **_that_** day, her trips to the fade drew all kinds of malignant spirits. The trip to the future didn’t help matters either. 

Eyes closed, she took stock of her surroundings. The warm scrawny body next to her could only belong to Sera, who crashed down after yesterday's night. The elf slept like the dead, if the dead snored in their sleep. 

Exhaustion clinging to her limps, she pushed herself up and off the bed. There was little hope she held in sleeping restfully, even when she didn't drink much yesterday.

When she slept in Haven, she usually did it in the antaam-sar, taking off the metal protection in favor of a comfort that ironically remained elusive. So when it was time for a bath all she needed was to untangle the main knots and lay in the conjured hot water. Eyes closed, she released a heavy sigh, feeling her chest dip down with it. 

She should meditate, perhaps seek a tamasran but it all seemed like way too much effort, so she closed her eyes and submerged her body under, wondering how long can her lungs hold before giving out.

“Herald.” Leliana’s lilting voice called her, before she even had a chance to escape out the gates. 

“How can I help.” She closed the door behind her, falling in step with the Nightingale. 

“You and your companions were surprisingly merry last night.” She remarked, walking up the stairs towards the courtyard. 

“We were.” Asala replied, studying Leliana intently even when it was mostly futile. “It is nice to get a change of pace, to wind do-“ the word clicked sharply in her mouth when she noticed the noise in front of the chantry. The mages and templars gathered, Fiona no where to be found but the templars had their commander with them.

“Your kind killed the most holy!” A templar screamed trying to push at the gap between them and the mages. Violenceevident in the way he held his body, the grit of his voice. 

“Who says _Your_ kind didn’t kill her!” The mage who was arguing with Cassandra yesterday defended, several mages behind him nodding.

Asala blinked away the red hue in her vision and pushed to the angry mob. The commander looked like he was going to say something, but she didn’t give him a chance, slotting herself opposite to him on the mages side. “Hold back your dogs Commander.” Asala growled, feeling the sound vibrating deep in her chest. Vision flashing with red that she was determined to ignore. The whispers of the fade spirits getting stronger every second.

“There are no templars here, we all serve under the Inquisition,” the commander said, turning to his men and pushing them back then turning to the mages mouth open to continue his lecture. 

Canines bared and lighting restlessly crackling over her skin, she slammed her staff to the ground. All Templars noticed her anger and her impatience, their commander included. He pursed his lips in disapproval before averting his attention to the templars, “get back to your training.” He barked, herding them out the courtyard. 

Asala took a deep breath her tongue pushing against her canine until it bled. She didn’t want to grind her teeth and end up with an even worse a headache “Are you alright.” She turned to the mages, the growl not yet leaving her voice. Some of the mages shuddered, huddling together fearfully. The elf the only one brave enough to face her and nod. “You’re free, but you are also resented that freedom. Why would you provoke them by getting anywhere near the chantry!?” Her voice rose high in frustration, each step she took towards them they seemed to take one back.

Even the elf looked like he was losing his confidence. A young woman in the back stepped up, eyes glinting with suppressed tears, “we only wanted to pray in the chantry like everyone else.” 

Asala felt her anger drain out, as if washed up with the snow under her feet. The woman had red, long hair, her dark eyes familiar and nostalgic. The fear in her eyes, in the mages’ eyes made her feel ashamed. To hide that, her eyes averted, turning to Leliana eyebrows frowned. 

The Nightingale was watching silently, head tilted and assessing. “All children of the maker deserve the freedom to practice their devotion.” Her voice was hardened, her eyes somewhere behind Asala.

“Of course, sister Leliana.” A chantry sister nodded, eyeing the mages and Asala hesitantly before she opened the doors and let the mages inside. 

“I did not expect you to be hostile to the mages.” 

Asala shook her head, eyebrows still closely knit. “I’m tired and I don’t want anymore problems.”

Leliana hummed, handing Asala a mission report, “you don’t look hungover.”

“I’m not.” The pages had detailed how the chantry was placated for now, one cleric short it seems, “the fade was a bit enthusiastic.” She deflected, enthusiastic was one word for it. 

Leliana produced a thick envelope, elegant font belying its sender. _Chancellor Jurgen Haulis_. “I hope you are in shape for another of our lessons.”

“Always am.” Asala said distractedly, attention trained on the swirling lines against the paper, “I’m surprised they want our help.”

“The university of Orlais can be a very valuable ally, it would do well to lend them help.”

“Shouldn’t we discuss this at the war table?” Asala asked, scratching at her horns and mentally calculating the damage to their numbers if they were to send help. Leliana raised an eyebrow, eyes trailing to the paper and up to Asala, “do we even have enough forces?” Asala added, if Leliana didn’t want the others to know then they didn’t need to, but it would be difficult to explain the disappearance of a number of their soldiers.

“We could arm them with what they like best. Information.” Leliana explained. “Give them ammunition against anyone who speaks against them and the attacks will cease.”

Asala nodded, putting the papers back on the table and pulling a chair to sit on “Do what you think is appropriate then.”

Leliana nodded, approval somewhat decipherable on her face. It felt like an achievement, to have earned it and to have learned to detect it. Perhaps even allowed to be able to detect it.

A couple of days passed, and Asala showed no sign of leaving Haven. Usually she’d be so restless, and barely stay for a meeting or two with an noble or a lesson from Leliana or Josephine. The restlessness didn’t change, but the desire to go out did. If she does, she has to take Cassandra and Vivienne with her. While she respected the enchanter, they disagreed about many things, and probably the only reason she was civil with her was that she agreed to help her find the missing tomes.

Not to mention the certain clash that would happen between her and Sera. The girl only got along with Dorian because he was not as ‘posh’ as she expected him to be and even then it took quite a while for them to get along. Introducing her to Vivienne would go as well as introducing oil to fire.

All in all, Asala spent her free time with the mages, basking in the familiar warmth of magic and getting aquatinted with the other mages. Dorian was with them in most cases, as did Solas surprisingly.

Today that wasn’t the case. When she looked for them, they weren’t in the mages’ camp. A mage, Solona, shrugged and told her to look for Solas by the training grounds or in the ambassador’s office as she liked to invite him for tea periodically, as for Dorian no one knew where he might have been. Well, no surprise there, he _did_ value his privacy.

With a warm ‘thank you’ Asala excused herself and left to look for them. The yard where the soldiers trained was crowded and noisy. Full with soldiers, weapons, and Lyrium pots. Her eyes scanned the place, ears straining in search of the mage’s voice. She wanted to run an idea by them so it wasn’t particularly urgent.

She was wondering where Dorian could be then she spotted Solas, her thoughts came to a screeching halt. Was he talking with _The Seeker_? It weirdly felt like betrayal, why did it look like he was having a pleasant talk with her!?

Averting her eyes, she bristles, it was stupid, why is he fraternizing with a seeker? She was practically a templar! Probably even worse than a templar! Instead of dwelling on it she goes searching for Dorian. Making her way to the gate mumbling under her breath. ‘Look at me I’m a templar and a mage is talking to me, woaa I’m better than anyone else, word of the maker, protector of the chant’, rolling her eyes, she huffs. Waving a greeting to Bull who was in a conversation with Krem.

It’s annoying and she doesn’t need annoying, so she’s not going to think about it. Dorian. Has to find Dorian, he would definitely have something interesting. Past the gates she spots him and grins wide, no more thinking of annoying things she’s going to spar with him and forget all about that.

“Hey Dorian”, Asala calls. He usually was in high spirit these days. She didn’t know if it was being away from the Mire or being near the mages but the happy look suited him. When she was close enough to see his face; however, his face was oddly blank. Her eyes followed his line of sight and Oh, no wonder. He was talking to that merchant she despised. 

She was close enough for the wind to carry the heated tone the merchant talked in, her sight strong enough to catch him spitting at Dorian’s feet. 

For his part, Dorian looked utterly bored. Looking down on the man with disinterest, “Ah I see you Fereldans are as unhygienic as your dogs.” 

The man got red in the face, quite interesting to see all that color disappear as fast as it appeared when he saw her in his periphery. 

At least he has some self preservation, “I was looking for you.” She told Dorian with a smile, acting as if the man wasn’t there at all. 

“Ah I apologize,” Dorian turned his attention to her, walking to her as if he could mask the encounter she just witnessed, “I was just heading back to the mages’ camp.” 

Asala grins sheepishly, nodding with her head to her cabin, “I’ll get a couple things from my room and maybe we can train together?”

Dorian tilted his head subtly enough to not be noticed were she any less trained. “Of course.” He hummed. glancing over his shoulder for a second before heading out the gates.

She went inside, tied her hair up in a complicated knot, then went back to the merchant whose name she didn’t care to know or remember.

“Come! I have the best equipment this side of Ferelden!” He exclaimed, a gummy grin on his face, beckoning her over and looking surprised when she went to him.

She remembers him, crass, rude, tried to talk down to her once and she almost broke his arm. Well. “So you say this shield is strong enough.” She asked, disbelief evident in her voice, 

“Yes! It can fend off anything and everything.” The merchant exclaimed, strapping the shield to his arm to demonstrate its strength. 

It was exactly what she expected, her hand rested on the upper edge of the circular metal and with less than her full strength she twisted. 

The cracking of bones was sadly masked by his loud screech. Ah well, one can’t have everything in life, “it didn’t block that. “ she affected surprise, but no remorse, several eyes trained on her “I really don’t think you should falsely advertise your goods. Someone might get hurt.” If almost breaking his arm didn’t work then he ought to learn from having it truly broken, and if he didn’t… There are worse things than a broken arm.

Without even a glance towards him she left, carelessly twirling her staff on her way to the designated training area she and Dorian monopolized.

Eventually, to Asala’s annoyance, they end up going to the Hinterlands. She relents when she realizes that she can’t ignore her duty because she’s feeling uncomfortable or distrustful. So she decided to ignore the seeker at her back and makes her way to the refugees camp.

“How is everyone doing?” She stopped by the hunter first, watching as he stirred something in a cauldron.

He raised his head and a grin made its way to his face “Herald!” His eyes dropped to the two rams she had hunted and carried with her on the way here, “we are ever in your favor. The game you hunted provided food and warmth to the refugees.”

“Good.” She nods, now noticing how the refugees were covered in the unmistakable fur of rams. There was no way the meager amount they brought could dress all those people this well.

“The inquisition scouts have been helping ever since you did.”

Ah, “It is their duty,” she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. People liked to think they were repaying debts willingly more than being forced into it.

She turns, heading to the nearby house. Knocking on the pillars of it since it had no doors to keep it closed. “Thenarel,” Hyndal’s father beamed at her, ushering her gladly to his home “how is your wife?” She asks kindly, head tilted so that she didn’t so obviously loom over him.

“As you can see. your worship.” The elven woman, Atheril Her memory supplied, ambled her way towards them looking so much better than she had been. Truthfully, anything other than her bedridden state was considered better.

“That’s great.” Asala smiled, heading to the woman and lending her a hand to lean on. “Don’t strain yourself so much.”

“The healer you brought makes sure to check on me regularly.” Atheril nodded, patting Asala’s palm, as she rested her weight on the wooden chair. “If only my son was here to do so.” She murmured wistfully

“He will be,” she said with convection. Reluctantly accepting the tea Thenarel offered. From the corner of her eye, she could see how bewildered the seeker looked. Madam De Fer unsurprisingly had a blank look on her face, and she accepted the chipped cup offered to her as if it were a crystal one. With grace and a nod of thanks.

“We can’t be long here. We have many things to see to.” She finished her tea with an apologetic smile.

“Of course.” Thenarel nodded, “you have helped the people here so much. We don’t know what we could do to return your favor.”

She smiled standing and taking her staff with her, watching as the seeker put her barely touched cup down along with Madam De Fer’s “Nonsense. I’m not doing this as a favor.” She was glad to help them, and if helping them made the inquisition a more potent an organization then it was an added benefit.

The woman and the man waved them goodbye, thanking her one last time before they left.

They made their way through the crossroads, now so much quieter, sans a few bandits here and there.

“You’ve been keeping busy my dear.” Vivienne pointed out after they were greeted with a grateful farmer baring bread and fruit.

“The world is in chaos,” she bit into the red apple, fresh but still not as good as the ones they had in Antiva, the soil simply isn’t the same. “The least we could do is make it less chaotic for those we can help.” She could see Sera up front, playing with a piece of whittled wood.

The seeker made an approving sound that both startled and disturbed Asala.

When they finally reached camp, it was already late in the afternoon. The sun kissing the horizon and painting the stones surrounding the camp a hazy lilac color.

The soldiers and scouts were equal parts ecstatic and nervous to have the herald visit them. Sera made herself at home amidst them, her cheerful and mischievous demeanor putting them more at ease.

Even without much to drink she ended up passed out in the tent Asala shared with her. It was what she had counted on, for when the night settled on them soundly, she snuck out of the camp and towards the Winterwatch Tower.

She didn’t trust any of her companions enough to let them know that the mages were staying there. They were vulnerable, only a handful of them capable enough to defend hundreds of children and apprentices.

The air in the Hinterlands at night was cold, cold enough for the mist to turn to a thin sheet of frost covering everything.

The stone walkway too, was covered in a thin layer of slippery ice, Asala had to plant the sharp edge of her staff deep into it so that she didn’t slip.

The mage standing guard at the gates looked grim, what little the flame of the torches showed, contorted in apprehensive determination.

“Peace.” She approached, the greeting a families thing, accompanied by the harmless light of veilfire.

“Herald.” The mage sighed in relief, eyes trained on the backward curved horns. They were prominent and unlikely to be mistaken as someone else’s.

She nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. At least the robes he wore were thick enough a protection against the wind.

Behind the gates, little children chased around, a kind looking woman with them. They darted through the courtyard, laughter loud and dirt on their cheeks. Asala couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than fondness, even if their faces were illuminated by a green hue similar to the hole in the sky.

She walked past the lights, detecting one of the mages left to care for the children. “Isn’t it quite late for the children to be awake?” Her question a greeting, smile still plastered on her face 

The mage, a blond human that looked old enough to be a father if it weren’t for the chantry’s cruel ways, turned to her. “It is,” he nodded, eyes following them. Posed and ready for any danger no matter how small. “Only it is hard to tell them off when they look so carefree and happy.”

She stood next to him, watching and remembering the frightened children, determination on their faces as they fled from every which circle. The kids who escaped Kirkwall and were separated from their caretakers, starved, afraid and feral. Eyes wild with their determination to protect each other at any cost. How they would cry until they passed out when they found a kind hand, warm food and a safe place. “I understand what you mean.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, before he broached it, “I hope what brings you here isn’t sinister in nature.”

She shook her head, “I’m only here to make sure that everyone is alright. That, and to bring Hyndel home to his parents. The refugees could use more healers.”

The mage nodded. Hair rustling with the strong wind. “We are all well.” The kids were beginning to slow down, exhaustion pulling them into each other, stumbling. “speaker Anais and everyone else were reluctant at first, but when they saw the veilfire we used to illuminate the place they became more than eager to share their space with us.”

Ah. Yes. They worshipped the breach, they would be ecstatic to have ones who could make something so alike it into a useful tool. “That’s good.” She breathed a sigh of relief

“It is. We help and protect each other. And we are free,” he paused, and shrugged , “as free as we can be for now.”

She nodded eyes set in determination, “we will be free, as free as anyone else is.”

“And I hope to live long enough to see it.”

The woman who was running around with the kids ushered them up the stairs, two of them balanced in her arms, the mage excused himself, helping taking them off her hand and heading up behind them.

She watched until they completely disappeared from view before turning, climbing the multiple ladders leading up to the boy’s bedroom.

“Hyndel,” she called, drawing his attention from whatever it was he was so ardently focused on.

When everyone woke up the next day, they looked puzzled at the boy accompanying the herald. Everyone knew better than to question her decisions and so they remained silent.

That is until Sera stumbled out of the tent finally awake. “Who’s that?” pointing at the boy, eyes squinted against the bright light.

“Hyndel.” Asala busied herself with organizing up her pack, distractedly pulling out an apple and handing it to him. “We’re taking him back to his parents.”

Sera leveled him with a scrutinizing look then shrugged, plopping down on the dirt and digging into her food. She probably needed the energy to continue pestering Vivienne.

They return the boy to his parents, and get back moving. Heading to the Fallow Mire. The roads are less dangerous in that the only danger is wild life. After taking down the third bear that day they stop at camp and Asala is hit by a thought. While Sera and the Seeker each accompany a group of scouts to carry the animals to camp, Asala calls another two and leaves. The camp’s safety in the hand of a couple scouts and Vivienne.

They are the first to return to camp despite being the furthest from it. She places the body down, finally able to see where she was walking and kneels down to start skinning the animal.

She leaves the rest of work to the scouts, suspending it downstream so that by the next day it isn’t too pungent to carry around. They stop by Redcliff and while they restock, she deposits the bag to the tanner and leaves.

“Ugh here again.” Sera snuffles then pinches her nose against the smell

“Sorry.” Asala laughs ruffling Sera’s hair, for once staying back and not heading the formation. It wasn’t like the field of energy surrounding her could _accidentally_ miss an enemy. “Since the Seeker is with us I thought we’d take out the demons at the pillars.”

Sera rolled her eyes, clutching her bow, muttering “Seeker this demon that.” She shivered as her foot submerged under a viscous muddy spot, “Ugh let’s just get it over with.”

Asala smiled, shaking her head, Sera was a good kid, kinda weird and a bit wonky about magic but at least she’s got her head where it matters.

“Well.” Asala sighed, shaking the bond tome off to remove the droplets it gathered In the fight. “That was a waste of a an intriguing mind.” She was tired and the chill was deep in her bones after wading through the water.

“That apostate was deranged.” The Seeker pointed out, exhausted and clearly resigned to not being able to change Asala’s mind.

“Just because they were, doesn’t mean they weren’t capable.” It was a disappointment that she has to kill the mage, the entries were curious , if one knew what they were looking for. At least she has the tome and the entries and she can go over them with Dorian, Solas too if he was interested. Maybe Solona from the free mages, she remembers her mentioning an interest in the fade. “Look how tired she got us.”

The Seeker made a disgusted sound, sheathing her sword and facing towards the way they came from.

“Oh, this is one of the elven Artifacts Solas spoke about.” She kneeled beside it, trying to remember how he had activated it before.

Sera busied herself, rubbing off the spirit ichor off her bow and clothings to comment on it, which was worrying since she makes it a point of pride to pester him on anything her says.

They kept at it for a few days, taking one pilar after the other. It was a well thought out plan, the demons they fought were strong and fighting them was quite taxing so they take a pillar down and then hover around protecting the scouts as they gathered resources. 

They’re making their way to the last pillar, rejuvenated after sleeping through what they assumed was night. There really was no telling with the way the sky was always dark with thunder clouds.

Despite having spent a long time in the Mire they were yet to get used to the humid and slimy environment. Poor Sera was grumbling under her breath all the time shoulders drawn up and bow clutched tightly in her hands. She only slept when Asala offered to swap places with her so that the entrance to their tent was in her line of sight.

Asala was leading the group, despite her reluctance, she had grown to somehow trust the Seeker after a particular encounter with a terror demon. Sera was next to her because she didn’t want to be sneaked upon by a corpse.

“I wonder, Cassandra, that you did not put yourself forward to lead the Inquisition while Divine Justinia was forming it.” Vivienne remarked, when Asala leaned her weight into Sera jokingly, trying to get her in a better mood.

The Seeker grunted, shrugging “The Divine wanted a heroic figure all of Thedas could rally behind.”

Asala pretended to be busy with Sera, talking about her bees. Their conversation flowed talking about saving Orlais which was something that Asala only just heard about which irked her greatly. She hated not understanding what someone was talking about. In knowledge, power. Afterall.

“What I have set in motion could destroy everything I have ever revered in my whole life,” The seeker replied to Vivienne’s flattery, clutching her shield closer and shaking her head, “One day they may write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool. And they may be right.”

“Don’t sell yourself short my dear,” The enchanter placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I am not.” She shook her head, alert even as she talked, “we had to take action when no one did. People will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot without doing anything to change it.” She scoffed. Dismissive.

Asala was somewhat surprised, having expected that the seeker would be more regretful seeing the way Asala was leading the inquisition.

“I only wonder if it is the maker’s will.” She added. And Asala barley held back from rolling her eyes, distractedly laughing at the joke Sera cracked and blocking out whatever Andrastian drivel was about to be discussed behind her.

“Thank you.” Coins exchanged, and product secured in a sturdy leather bag. Asala fastened it to Atra’s side petting her affectionately. She must miss Atash, with Bull in Haven there was no need to drag her to the field.

“What’s that?” Sera asked, leaning on her horse curiously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Asala grinned, winking, and pushing herself up on her horse.

“Ooh..” Pulling the reins to get as close as she could without being trampled by Atra, she proceeded to give outrageous guesses as to what the bag contained.

“That’s pretty messed up Boss.” Bull’s laugh boomed around the training yard, loud above the noise of clashing swords.

They had just returned and she was dusty and every speck of dirt acutely, still she grinned wide, teasing“Wanna know whats messed up?” her pupils dilating and turning her eyes to two black holes with a barely visible ring of purple. “We saw a High dragon.”

His eyes widened and he grinned wide, “No shit?”

“Yup.” She smirked, popping the p with smugness, tilting her head up and to the side “a Fereldan Frostback.”

“That’s not fair!” He grouched knocking against her with his shoulder. The time they spent together in field assuring him that at least with her, he can be carless with his weight.

“Yeah? Say that to Leliana.” She shrugged, the grin on her face reflected brightly in her eyes, “let me see you go against her”

“Nah. I’ll pass.”

“Thats what I thought.” She scratched at her horn, “anyway you didn’t miss much, we cleaned up the demons do-“ interrupted, she turned her head to the familiar voice

“Asala!” Josephine smiled when she noticed the long white haired back turned away from her. No one had a stature or hair like hers, the bangles around her wrists loud and telling even if she wasn’t so recognizable. And the horns were as telling as the mark of the breach on her hand.

“Josephine!” If possible Asala brightened more, turning her whole body to face the ambassador.

“Oh.” Josephine’s eyes widened, glancing at the heralds carelessly naked torso and then up to her face, “aren’t you cold?” She blurted out the question, saved only by the false carelessness in her voice.

Asala looked down at herself, then up and shrugged, “not really,” she nodded with her head at Bull who’s skin was on display as she was “we qunari run hot. Remember?”

Josephine nodded, smiling at the bright expression aimed at her. “It’s good to have you back. I hope your trip was pleasant.”

Asala grinned, “It wasn’t really, but some people make it worth the trip to just get back and see them.”

Josephine’s eyes darted towards Bull and then back, head tilting and he smile softening, “I’m glad that you’re not bored, coped up here with all of us.”

A carriage made its way up to them and Josephine turned to it, “I will see you later?”

Asala nodded, “yeah! Of course.” She watched the ambassador’s retreating back, welcoming the visitors with her skillful demeanor.

“Huh.” Bull ‘s voice drew her attention and she turned back to him

“What is it?”

“Nah. It’s nothing.” At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged, “just thought you didn’t like humans is all.”

“I don’t.” Her reply was quick, matter of fact, as if she wasn’t just flirting with one

“Okay.” Bull shrugged, it was none of his business, even if he made a little note to mention it in his next report home.

“What was I saying.” She went back to their story, and Bull didn’t deter her, even as she talked about insane apostates and creepy demons. “Don’t worry next time I’ll bring you with and we’ll go dragon hunting.”

“Shit. Boss didn’t think you were the flirty type.”

She grinned lopsided, “and I thought you knew me well by now.”

“Josephine?” Asala called, lightly knocking on the door. She hoped that the ambassador was free, if for a moment. She was cleaned up and polished, every knot in her armor redone to perfection. _Presentable._

“Come in.” Came the gentle voice through the door.

She opened the door, an apologetic smile on her face when she saw how many papers were on the ambassador’s desk, “Did I come at a bad time?”

“No, no. It is nothing more than usual.” She pushed away from the table, elegant as she always is in everything she does.

“Mmh.” She closed the door behind her and put the leather bag on the seat in front of Josephine’s desk. “If you ever want my help I’m always happy to offer it.”

“Thank you for your offer. I will consider it.” Her smile, while kind, spoke volumes of how unlikely that is to happen.

Asala shrugged, paperwork was one of the things she missed from her mercenary days. The order and routine of it. “I brought you something.” She gestured towards the bag, which drew Josephine’s attention to it

“Oh?”

Drawing the strings open, she pulled out the thick bear fur cape. The fur was dark, warm, treated in a most professional way, with this weather Fereldans must know their way around furs. “You spend a lot of time outside, and it’s cold out here in Haven.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” She held the cape in her hands, it was surprisingly heavy. Heavy and warm and soft. “You really shouldn’t.”

“It’s alright.” She murmured, taking it from Josephine’s hands and draping it over her shoulders. It made her look smaller than she was, the cape cradling her cheeks, bringing out the gray of her eyes and the flicks of brown in their middle. “It suits you.” She said with a smile

“Thank you.” Josephine nodded, feeling her blood warm up and a blush raising up to her cheeks.

Asala smiled, noticing the rising redness to the ambassador’s cheeks and the sweet scent of her blood so close to the surface. From the heat no doubt, the office is warm after all.

She lowers her hands, smiling softly. Wondering how could someone so small and delicate handle all the mess of dealing with the upper society. “I will leave you to your work then.” She excused herself, leaving the office to a wave and a thank you from the ambassador. Missing how Minave was eyeing them.

“Heard from Sera what happened.”

“What happened?” Asala sighed, turning the page and writing along the margins. They were sitting behind the hut assigned to Solas and Dorian, away from prying eyes.

“Well,” Dorian closed his tome. Abandoning his reading, “I could bring up the fact that a certain man found himself with a broken arm even though I’m certain he’d never been anywhere near a fight.” His sharp nails tapped against the cover rhythmically “But what I’m actually interested in is how things went out with The Seeker on your team.”

“Nothing.” She grumbled, pretending she didn’t hear the first part.

“While I know to take whatever it is that Sera says with a grain of salt, I also know that she knows something about everything.” He let the silence settle between them for a couple of seconds before sighing and opening his tome, “I won’t press you.”

It took him reading a single paragraph about the integration of ambient magic into barriers for her to breakdown and shut her own tome.

“It was nothing,” she started, convincing absolutely no one, “Cass smited a terror demon when it took my by surprise and was about to take the hand that was keeping me alive and useful.” She shrugged wiggling her right hand, the emerald hue of it reflecting on their faces. “It’s whatever.”

Dorian hummed, absently reading through the rest of the page. It was basics, and he was looking for a specific piece of information that it didn’t require his full attention.

“She did smite that apostate thought,” she added bitterly , then as if in an after thought, “she was trying to kill us but a smite is too much.”

“So it’s Cass now.” Dorian pointed out when she was about to spiral into another rant, an eyebrow raised. She may be a good leader and a good fighter, but she really had a petty personality. “So you want to tell me you’d object to smiting one of my countrymen if presented with the chance.”

She turned to him, squinting and lips pursed. He didn’t have to put it like that. “Vint’s don’t count.” she turned back to her book.

“A man with a broken arm would say that you disagree with that.”

“Please. You may be pretty but don’t let that go to your head. I didn’t do it for you.”

“Pretty!?” He scoffed, feigning offense, “I’m one of Thedas’ wonders.”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes fondly, “I’m sure that someone out there appreciates-“

“Herald.” A recognizable elven mage interrupted them. He looked terrified, wide eyed and clutching his staff in his hands tightly.

“Lysas?” Asala stood at once, abandoning her tome on the barrel she had been sitting on. “What’s wrong?” She hadn’t seen a lot of him in Haven, but now that she’s looking at him she can remember him amongst the ones who wanted to go into the chantry.

“It’s the grand enchanter.” He turned the way he came from glancing back to make sure she was following him.

“What is it.” Her tone was sharp.

“We don’t know,” they made their way to the mages camp, the soldiers were training as if nothing was amiss. The mages know better than to show weakness, “she suddenly collapsed and we can’t tell what’s wrong with her.”

She frowns, turning to Dorian who had came with her. He shook his head, he may have been in Haven while she wasn’t but he doesn’t know anymore than she does. They pass by Bull who is training with a few of his men and she waves at him with a smile. She trust him, but what she trusts more is the predictability of the Qun, if he knew they would know.

They reach the mages’ camp and it’s like nothing’s amiss. Everyone is carrying on with their tasks, training, cooking, talking, like their leader isn’t bedridden. When they cross the heat barrier the mages have around their camp, it is a whole different matter. The air is charged with worry, and those talking are doing it in hushed voices, like prey animals doing their best to not draw attention to themselves. The closer they get to the tent Fiona is in, the more tense the mages are, hackles raised like a mother guarding her pups.

“Herald.” The mage standing idly by the tent flap nods, his eyes trailing behind her and towards Dorian. “You’re welcome inside, the Vint however,” she shakes her head

The mage is the one they met in The Gull and Lantren, the one who was so distrustful of the inquisition, even if most mages admired Dorian’s magical ability, many distrust him still. Fiona included. It would not be right to disrespect her wishes.

She turns to Dorian and he shakes his head dismissively, spotting a group of mages that he was aquatinted with and joining their conversation.

“She had been acting oddly for a while now,” the mage explained, watching the still body. “We haven’t found anything amiss with her.”

Asala knelt next to the body. The tent wasn’t large enough to accommodate her standing hight, it was wide enough to not be considered crowded at least. “How long has this been going?”

The woman averted her gaze, staring at Fiona’s staff which was resting on a pillar of the tent, “Since Redcliff.”

Her eyes widened, “why didn’t you tell me this earlier!”

“Tell you?!” The mage turned indignant, “your inquisition has the former Knight captain of Kirkwall as a commander! Your base of operations is a literal chantry! How do you expect us to trust you!”

“That’s true, but I showed you enough proof that I’m on your side!” She shook her head, eyes closed. It was difficult to be angry when she knew she’d do the same if put in the same position. Hell, she’d hear ‘Herald of Andraste’ and run for the hills, she already feels like doing that with her as the recipient of that title.

“We hoped that she would get better.” The mage put a hand above Fiona’s unconscious body. Fiona’s dark complexion, ashen, the green glow a thin sheen against her clammy skin. “No matter how many times we checked her out we wouldn’t find anything wrong.”

Asala nodded, watching intently, and extending her own hand when she lowered hers, “Maybe you don’t know what to look for?” Healing was one of the things she was exceptional at, to the delight and pride of her family. She did have the best teacher.

Still. She found nothing amiss. Despite the paleness her complexion had gained, she was burning up. It’s concerning. “Madam De Fer might know something.”

“But-“ she stopped herself, looking down at Fiona’s unmoving body, the only sign of life is the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. “I don’t think she’d want to be indebted to her.”

Asala shook her head, they didn’t have a choice did they? But it wasn’t like they had any confirmation that it would work. They all had the same circle education. Even if Asala’s was of a slightly different background due to her exposure.

“Please” the mage grabbed the loose fabric of her pants, desperation in her eyes.

“Maybe Dorian would know.” He certainly had far more knowledge than they did, he is Tevinter after all.

She gets up, knees bent, and leaves. He cracked time magic, surly he would know what this was. She finds him deep in conversation with a few mages, laughing and being his charming self. If someone were to gaze at them from the outside they wouldn’t know that something was wrong.

“Dorian.” They stop talking, turning to her with faces wrecked with nerves they couldn’t hide. If she, the herald, couldn’t find out what was wrong then who could!

He smiles and bows in his usual extravagance, leaving with her and hesitating at the entrance. “It’s alright.” She assures.

The mage is sitting next to Fiona’s head worrying her lips with her teeth. Asala sits next to her, pulling Dorian ,across from them on Fiona’s other side, down with her when he seemed hesitant. “I can’t figure out what’s wrong with her.”

Dorian pursed his lips, brows frowned. Extending a hand to her ashen skin to find it scalding with heat. A touch of his magic was enough. “Oh.” His eyes widens, and his hand clinches beside him. “It’s blood magic. Mind control magic.” He pulls away, looking jarred “I’ve only seen it’s after affects once, but it’s unmistakable.”

The mage’s eyes dart from Dorian and to Fiona, looking shellshocked. Raising a hand and casting a dispel powerful enough to ruffle the tent and shake the pillars.

“That should do it.” Asala murmured, glancing at Dorian who looked like someone stabbed him.

“If you excuse me then,” he turned hurriedly leaving the tent

“So that’s why she agreed to the magister’s deal.” Everyone knows how adamant Fiona had been about not bowing to anyone, let alone outright slavery to Tevinter. “I will leave her to your care.” She excused herself and headed to Leliana’s. No one had to know, but their spymaster, certainly did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Fiona’s being controlled by blood magic, it is the only explanation for her behavior in DAI and if you want to read more about the idea [COJ broke it down here](https://dalishious.tumblr.com/post/624087907289923584/fiona-and-in-hushed-whispers)
> 
> As you can probably notice there are a few unofficial names sprinkled around. I used them to highlight the fact that Asala remembers people’s name with accuracy but simply doesn’t care enough about humans enough to memorize them.  
> Her bias towards humans is a big part of her character.  
> If someone didn’t notice it, yes Leliana has a resemblance to Asala’s dead aunt, not too jarring as to startle her compared to the mage she saw in the beginning of this chapter, but close enough to influence her behavior towards Leliana and to make her eager for her approval.


End file.
